


Serendipitous Melody

by Travelintimeandspace



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bailbonds!Emma, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Singer!Killian, Slow Burn, Talent Show AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-09
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2018-09-06 23:56:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 81,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8774818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Travelintimeandspace/pseuds/Travelintimeandspace
Summary: Everyone has dreams. You might dream of becoming an astronaut or teacher, or you might want to become a doctor and save as many lives you can. Emma Swan’s childhood dream was being a singer. But with life getting in the way and never finding the courage to overcome her fears, she never had a chance to follow it. That is until a little push from her friends lead her to cash on an opportunity; and, who knows, she might even get more than what she’d wished for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello fellow shipmates! I know how much you love AUs, so here’s another one that hopefully will help you get your daily Captain Swan dose during this long hiatus. There are so many people I should say thank you to for making all of this possible, but let’s start from the beginning. First I’d like to to thank Aimee. We were texting when I got the idea for this fic, and she was the first one to tell me I could do it. If it wasn’t for her, I probably would never have written this story. Then, another thank you goes to Elena and Tessa, my wonderful and amazing betas, and, last but not least, to Lara, my precious cheerleader, who always knows what to say to make me smile. That said, I have the first 8 chapters ready but I’m going to post on Fridays, once every two weeks to give me the time to write the next chapters. Also, this is my first fic so if you’d be so kind to leave a comment, I’ll love you forever.

According to the clock on the wall they had been in the waiting room for about an hour, but to Emma it seemed like she had been sitting on that uncomfortable sofa for ages. At first she didn’t know what to do to keep her mind busy; David, on the other hand, came prepared and, as soon as he sat next to her, he’d started reading a book. Cursing at herself for being so late - and consequently not thinking about bringing something to do - she’d taken her phone from her purse and started playing Candy Crush.  

As the time went by, the chatting of the people in the room grew and Emma kept finding herself looking around.  

Right in front of her was a blonde woman sitting next to a bubbly red haired girl who wouldn't stop talking to her and to the guy standing behind the couch. Not far from them, laying against the wall, was a boy in a tux who was lazily playing with a Rubik’s cube.

Unlike her, everyone seemed to be relaxed and confident. The more she looked around her, the more the thoughts of not being good enough, that had haunted her for the whole morning, started to come back to the surface.

_Emma, calm down. Breathe. You can do this! It’s not like you’ve never sung in front of an audience before, don’t be such a child._

*           *           *

She had woken up way too early that morning, her heart racing and butterflies in her belly. She was nervous. The worst part was that she was nervous about something she didn’t even want to do. This was all her friends’ fault! It was Ruby that got the idea, and then Mary Margaret got so excited about it, that David had to agree with the both of them. So they started to (not so) casually hint at the show and the audition for it. They even kept on saying things like “Wouldn’t it be fun, Emma?” or “You should totally give it a shot!”

 _Idiots._ She rolled her eyes at the ceiling.

She knew they loved her and they wanted to see her happy, but asking her to go on an endless list of dates to find - as Mary Margaret says - her True Love and asking her to get an audition for one of those stupid shows just to make a fool of herself in front of everyone, were not the same thing: if the date was awful, she could go home, and if the guy was a jerk, she could throw a glass of wine at him, or punch him in the face, if he got handsy… she was a bail bonds person for goodness’ sake, she could take care of herself!

It wasn't so easy when she was performing in front of an audience. If she sang out of tune or if she forgot the lyrics, everyone would hear it, including him and the other judges! Because among all the shows she could choose, Ruby picked the one in which she’d have to sing in front of her favourite singer, Killian Jones.

 _No Emma, don’t think about him!_ She thought, rubbing her eyes with her hands in an attempt to make her anxiety go away.

Suddenly, right after she had managed to calm down a little, her alarm had gone off, nearly scaring her to death. She had quickly turned it off, and given herself some time to recover from the shock before getting out of bed. She wasn’t used to waking up before hearing that annoying beeping sound but, lost in her thoughts as she had been, she’d completely forgotten she even owned an alarm clock.

After taking a quick shower, she had gone back to her bedroom to change.

Too lazy to open the curtains and let the sunlight in, she switched on the light and changed into the outfit Ruby had made her promise to wear. She had walked up to the mirror, and when she had seen her reflection, she had grimaced. She had been wearing a red camisole that left the top half of her back bare, a black mid-thigh skirt and sky high heels. The woman in the mirror staring back at her hadn’t looked like Emma at all: she was a blonde, green eyed version of Ruby!

“I’m so not wearing this,” she had muttered to herself, angrily stripping off Ruby’s clothes.

Emma had stared numbly at the clothes hanging in her wardrobe for a few minutes, before she had thought her everyday clothes would do just the trick. After all, why would she need to wear something fancy if the coaches were just going to pay attention to her voice?

While adding the last finishing touches to her makeup, David had called her to ask her where she was. She hadn’t realised she was so late: she was supposed to pick him up ten minutes prior! She rushed through the apartment searching for her purse and car keys, then once she had picked up her red leather jacket and locked her door, she had ran down the stairs.

She had spotted her bug among all the cars stationed in the parking lot nearby her condo. (Ah, the merits of having a bright yellow car!) Emma had hopped into the bug, throwing her stuff in the back seats. As soon as she had started her car, the radio turned itself on and started playing some music. Emma was so used to driving with the radio on that she hadn’t paid much attention to it. Until she had heard Killian Jones' singing voice coming out from the speakers.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she had mumbled, pressing the off button of her radio with way too much force. The last thing she needed, at that moment, was a reminder that he’d soon listen to her singing, or that he’d most likely talk to her with his sexy husky voice, his blue eyes fixed on hers-

 _No Emma, focus!_ She had thought, shaking her head, in an attempt to sweep away from her mind every potentially distracting detail she knew about Killian Jones.

She had driven in silence for a few more minutes; fortunately she lived pretty close to David and Mary Margaret. When she had seen David standing by the road waving at her, she had pulled over and he had gotten in the car, greeting her. Emma murmured a little, “Hi” and faked a confident smile, failing miserably. David had looked like he understood that she didn't want to talk, so he had given her a reassuring smile, and they had stayed in a comfortable silence until they had arrived at the studios.

She was glad that David offered to go with her to the audition. At first Emma wanted to go on her own but apparently she couldn't for some TV show crap she still couldn’t understand. It wasn’t because she didn't love her friends enough to want them there with her, but because she hated it when people kept talking to her in an attempt to make her think of something else right before a performance. David had known that for a long time, though, not only because he was her oldest friend, but also because he always seemed to know when she needed to be left alone with her thoughts. He had been her first friend at school, the first person to know about her love of music and he had always been there for her. He was like the brother she never had, and she knew he thought of her as his little sister (even though he was just a few months older than her).

"Are you Emma Swan?" a petite brunette asked her, bringing Emma back to reality.

"Yes..." _What was her name? I only remember she's the conductor of the show. Was it Belle?_

"Good. Will you follow me? You are next,” she said kindly. Emma nodded. After leaving her stuff with David, she followed Belle into a dark room with a big red door on the left and a red light at the top of it.

"Okay, so when the red light turns green, you open the door, and you'll see the stage at the end of a corridor. You'll find a piano ready for you. When you're ready just nod and the music will start. I'll be watching you with your friend David but you'll see me again when your audition is over," Belle informed her with a gentle smile on her lips, “Good luck!”

Emma thanked the woman and watched her walk away. This was it. This was what she'd dreamed about since she was little. She didn’t exactly remember when she had started singing and writing music, but it was the only thing that had helped her during her childhood. Since there was no one that cared for her enough to be there and to listen to her, she had found in music a way to express her feelings, her dreams and to be herself. When she went to high school she found out, thanks to David, that she was really good at playing instruments too. He was the one who taught her to play the guitar and who helped her pay for piano lessons. She would never stop thanking him for that.

The light turned green, startling her. After opening the door, she saw the bright lights of the stage at the end of a short, barely lit corridor. When she reached the end of the passageway, her eyes widened. The place was huge.

A white grand piano was centered on the stage, and even though it was too dark to see clearly over the four red chairs of the coaches, she could tell that the eyes of the hundreds of people in the audience were pointing at her. She could feel it on her skin. She went up on the stage and sat on the piano stool. Putting her hands on the keyboard, she took a deep breath and then nodded her head.

The music started immediately, her heart beating wildly in her chest, but then Emma started singing, the notes flying from her fingers, her voice soft and clear. She forgot where she was: for the next two minutes it was just her and her music.

*           *           *

It was his second day at work and he was already so exhausted from his boredom. No one would consider his job tiring, but he had been listening to people singing for a day and a half and, to be honest, he could count the ones that were actually good on his right hand. And the guy who was now singing wasn’t any better.

_Why did I accept this job? Oh right, I didn’t get to bloody choose whether to accept it or not._

It had all started a few weeks back, when Regina had asked him to go to her office as soon as possible. When he had listened to what she had to say to him with such urgency, all he could do was look at her, his mouth hanging open. Since he got Regina’s call, Killian had prepared himself to hear one of her outbursts about how he had been wasting his career with that impulsive behaviour of his, or about some pictures of him getting drunk in a pub.

What he wasn’t expecting, though, was her being all nice and smiley, asking him to be the fourth coach on that new singing talent show everyone was talking about. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice as it was his best chance to clean up the mess he’d made and gain some more popularity, which never hurt. To put it in Regina’s words.

So there he was, listening to a lot of people who thought they knew how to sing and to just a few who actually knew what they were doing. At least he was in good company.

At first he was worried that he wouldn't get along well with the other coaches, but when he found out who they were he was relieved.

Being a famous singer, Killian had met many stars - what with all the parties, awards and sporadic movie premieres he had attended - they were actors or singers like him. Some of them became close friends, but he couldn’t get along with everyone, no matter how dashing he was. Luckily for him, Robin, Tink, and Ariel didn't belong to that small group of celebrities he couldn't stand, quite the contrary; Killian had sang with each one of them on multiple occasions. They were the closest thing he had to best friends. Killian didn’t just like them as people, he respected them as artists too.

The high pitched voice of the man’s singing and the last beats of the song made Killian lose his train of thought. He hoped their chairs wouldn't turn, or it'd be extremely awkward to talk with that guy about his performance when it was so bad Killian had stopped listening to it. Fortunately their chairs stood still, meaning the rejected man would be escorted backstage by Belle.

After hearing the clicking sound of Belle’s heels coming and going and the soft thud of the door, Killian stood up to stretch his legs.

“Which do you think is less painful: sitting on these bloody chairs for eight hours straight or listening to him sing?” he asked the others with a playful grin.

“Don't be so mean, Killian!” Ariel scolded him, “He just needs a little more practice.”

“Just a little? Are you sure?” Robin scoffed at her.

“Okay, okay, he still needs lots of practice,” she admitted, “Happy?”

“Very much, my lady,” said Robin bowing at Ariel, who smacked him lightly on the arm without thinking twice.

“You do realise we still need to find twenty-nine people to complete our teams, don't you?” Tink asked them shaking her head, still laughing at the scene. Then, putting her hands on her face, she groaned. “God, this is going to be a long week!”

Killian took Tink's left hand and knelt in front of her.

“Fear not, lady Bell, for when this week's over I'll offer you a drink,” he declared, his tone solemn and his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Holding her breath, Tink put her free hand on her forehead and pretended to swoon, “My hero!”

The four of them looked at each other for a few, long seconds before bursting out laughing.

Just after they all managed to pull themselves together, the lights started to dim, meaning that the next audition would begin soon.

Sitting down, they all waited in silence for the first notes of the song echoing in the air, all of them ready to write its title on a small whiteboard they kept on their desk, near the big red button. They had started a little game: the first one who got the title of a song earned one point; double points if they could guess it in less than fifteen seconds. They even had a scoreboard! Currently, Tink was at the top end of the table with thirty points, closely followed by Killian.

Suddenly the music started and they heard the piano intro of the song. Killian recognised it immediately, and wrote on his whiteboard a single word: _Flares_.

His friends couldn’t stop staring at him, quite impressed by how fast he'd been. Their expression changed from shock to confusion when Killian showed them what he'd written. That didn't surprise him though. They'd tried to help him when he'd been in a dark place and they knew that what had helped him most was music. What they didn’t know, was that song had a special meaning to him. That was the song that had given him hope, when his world had come tumbling down. He'd listened to it on repeat so many times that he had learned it by heart.

He knew it so well that he could hear something different in the way the piano sounded. The touch was soft and gentle, notes flowing effortlessly but still clear.

_Whoever is auditioning is also playing the piano. That’s pretty much clear. And bloody hell, they are great!_

He was so lost listening to the music that he almost missed the first line.

The small, silvery voice of a woman echoed in the whole room. There was kindness in her voice, as if she was singing a lullaby to a child, but also a tinge of both sadness and anger.

_Did you feel the smoke in your eyes?_

_Did you, did you?_

_Did you see the sparks filled with hope?_

_You are not alone_

_'Cause someone's out there, sending out flares_

Killian could tell that she didn’t chose this song just for the pretty words and melody; no, she chose it because, just like him, she had a deep connection with this song. She meant each single word that poured from her lips, as if she’d experienced all of it when she was younger. However, she was not letting all her emotions go, making it look like just a nicely sung tune to most of people. When she reached the chorus, it wasn’t just the sadness and anger that she kept concealed, but also the joy of finding hope and happiness after all the sufferings.

_Did you break but never mend?_

_Did it hurt so much you thought it was the end?_

_Lose your heart but don’t know when_

_And no one cares, there’s no one there_

He was aware that he didn’t know her (bloody hell he hadn’t even seen her yet!), but somehow he felt like he already did: they were both bruised and battered from what happened in the past, struggling with the aftermath, but finding peace in music. Her performance didn’t just show Killian who she was though, but it also stirred something deep inside him.

His eyes watered and his grip on the pen hardened, knuckles turning white. Killian knew that the cameras were probably pointing at him and he could feel his mates’ worried gaze on his skin, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was finding a way to freeze the moment in his mind so that he could live in it forever. He was so focused in trying to remember every single detail, that he almost forgot about the show and the big red button in front of him.

The song was coming to an end and Killian, conscious of the fact that neither Robin, nor Tink or Ariel would press the button, hit it with his fist without second thoughts. His chair turned slowly, coming abruptly to a stop after a few seconds.

And he saw her.

She was there, playing a white grand piano, too absorbed in her music to notice what just happened.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry (almost) Christmas everyone! I never thought so many people would have liked the first chapter, it was a really nice surprise. You should have seen my face whenever I’d read one of your comments...let’s just say I still smile like a lunatic whenever I think about what you wrote. I hope you’ll like this chapter too!
> 
> Huge thanks and lots of hugs and virtual (sorry) chocolate to my wonderful betas Tessa and Elena, without whom this story would be a mess <3<3

The only thing Emma could see were her hands flying on the keyboard. She couldn't hear anything except for her voice and the music: it was like she was trapped in a bubble. A bubble that not even the loud cheering of the audience when Killian’s chair turned around could burst. It felt like she’d started singing only seconds ago, but her audition was quickly coming to an end. So quickly, that she hadn't even realised she was already singing the ending lyrics of the song.  
  
As soon as the last notes echoed in the room, her bubble burst making her hear the hundreds of people who were watching her, clapping and cheering for her.  
  
Letting her hands drop off the piano, she stood up. She awkwardly reached the little blue cross at the center of the stage where a microphone was waiting for her on its stand, her eyes looking at her feet and her cheeks bright red.  
  
Picking the mic up, Emma brought it to her lips to thank everyone. But when she’d finally found the courage to look up the words died on her lips.  
  
He was there. Killian Jones was standing up applauding her while the other coaches' chairs were turning around.  
  
_Oh my god! I did it. And he's gonna be my teacher! Oh my god, this is insane!_

Killian must have sensed her embarrassment because, after everyone had quieted down, he breathed out with a husky voice “Hello, love,” flashing her a big, cheeky smirk, which made her blush even deeper.

“It's not like you're going to make things better for her that way, mate,” Robin lectured him. “Good morning, lass! What's your name?”

“Emma. Emma Swan,” she answered, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater.

“Nice to meet you Emma. Would you like to tell us something about yourself?”

“Ehm…I’m twenty-eight, I live here, in L.A. and I wouldn't be here now if my friends didn't push me in doing this,” she knew she was rumbling but she couldn’t stop the words from coming out of her mouth ( _This is so awkward!_ ) “so, uhm, I should thank them.”

“Well, Emma,” Robin chuckled, looking at Killian. “It seems like you won Jones’ heart.”

Emma couldn't help but laugh a little at that because, come on, he was Killian freaking Jones, she couldn't possibly have _won his heart_ with just a song, right?

“You couldn't have said truer words, Robin. She has indeed won me over,” he said, crossing eyes with her for a moment before bending forward to look at Robin, who was sitting in between Tink and Ariel. “I really don't understand why you didn't want her in your team! She sings and plays divinely and you could hear that she made that song hers too.”

“That’s because we knew you were going to push the button,” Robin explained, “Really! It was written all over your face. And we know that once we’ll complete our teams, we could beat you easily.”

“Robin…” Tink sighed, shaking her head, while Killian glared at him and Ariel seemed ready to smack him again. Killian though, knew them well enough to understand that there was something they wouldn’t say aloud while Emma was still within earshot.

Even though it was fun to look at them bickering, Emma couldn’t help but feel glad they weren’t looking at her because her cheeks were still bright red after all the compliments Killian had paid her.

“Anyway,” Killian said, moving his eyes away from Robin to meet hers. “I meant everything I said before, and I’m so glad you are now part of my team. Now, what do you say? Can I get a hug?”

Still conscious of the hundreds eyes looking at her, Emma didn’t trust her voice, so she just nodded, a small embarrassed smile on her lips.

Killian jumped up, grinning like a five years old child who had just found some ice cream in the fridge. He sprinted on stage and embraced her. It was brief and a bit awkward, but no one noticed that except them. Killian tilted his head, his mouth coming closer to her ear so he could whisper “I'll see you backstage.”

He stood back from her and slowly went back to his chair, turning around just in time to see her going away, waving goodbye.

After reaching one of the side doors, she ran through the corridors looking for David. It didn't take long for her to find him. She saw him in one of the few rooms with the door open, talking with that girl from before, Belle ( _I’m almost positive her name is Belle. Why is it always so hard to remember people's names?_ ). With a sprint, she rushed into the room, her arms open wide ready to hug him, but David preceded her, picking her up. He held her tight for a bit while telling her how good she’d been.

Eventually, Emma managed to break off his hold, smiling so much her cheeks hurt.

“Killian seemed really moved by your performance.” David admitted.

Emma scoffed at that.

“He's right, you know. There was a moment in which I thought he would cry.” the woman added.

“You see? Even Belle saw that!” he exclaimed.

_Belle? You mean that I actually remembered the name of someone I’d just met?_

Emma didn't really know what to think. How could he have had that reaction? She was nothing special. Yeah she could sing, but that was it. There were lots of people in the world who could do that, and she was pretty sure that most of them would be better at it than her. It was already crazy to think that a famous singer like him thought she was good, but this? This was too much.

“Emma, David, I’m sorry but I have to go,” Belle apologised “You can wait for Killian here. He’ll join you as soon as he can.”

Saying goodbye, she exited the room leaving Emma and David alone. Emma finally looked at it. It was a small room with immaculate white walls and a large tv hanged on one of them in front of a red couch.

Suddenly, a phone’s ringtone tinkled into the room. David took his phone from the pocket of his jeans and answered to the call, his ears bright red and his eyes’ gaze not leaving the ground.

“Really?!” Emma muttered, laughing quietly.

_Only David could consider a group of whistling dwarves an acceptable choice for a ringtone._

“Hello dear!” David said way too enthusiastically, “Yes, she’s here. Do you want to talk to her? Okay, I’ll call you later. Love you.”

He handed Emma the phone, his eyes still not meeting hers.

“Hey Mary Margaret! Please, please change your fiancè’s ringtone when he gets home.” Emma begged her.

“Why? What is it this time?” she asked with a sigh.

“Heigh Ho.” Emma replied giggling.

Mary Margaret bursted out laughing and reassured her “I’ll do it, Em. Don’t worry.”

“Oi! It’s funny!” David argued, hurt by their laugher.

“No David it’s not funny; it’s just plain embarrassing!” Emma corrected him.

David pouted.

“Let him pout for a bit, Em,” _Really?! Can they read in each other's minds or something?_ “Anyway, how did the audition go?”

“Oh, it went well...I’m-” Emma took a deep breath and grimaced, bracing herself for Mary Margaret’s reaction by pulling the phone away from her ear. “I’m in Killian Jones’ team.”

“ _Oh my god!_ ” Mary Margaret cried excitedly. Emma was pretty sure they could hear her screaming from the stage.

“That’s amazing! I knew you were going to make it. What did he say? I’m sure he-”  Emma rolled her eyes at the ceiling.    

While listening to Mary Margaret’s rant, Emma’s phone buzzed with a message, causing her to start sifting for it in her bag. Once she’d finally managed to find it, she realised with horror that she had fifteen unread texts and a missed call from Ruby. Since Mary Margaret was still freaking out, she decided to read them right away.

**R: How did it go?**

**R: No wait**

**R: It's too soon**

**R: Good luck :)**

**R: Em how was it?**

**R: Emma??**

**R: Pls answer**

**R: How**

**R: Did**

**R: It**

**R: Go????**

**R: Em you were supposed to start half an hour ago**

**R: Answer the goddamn phone Emma**

**R: That's it I'm gonna call you if you don't answer in 10**

**R: 5 minutes left Emma**

_Shit_. Not replying to Ruby’s texts was something one should never do. She was in a big trouble now.

“Emma? Are you listening to me?”

“What? Sorry Mary Margaret but I've gotta go. I've just read all the text Ruby sent me and she's threatening to call me in a few.You know how she is…” she explained, passing her hand through her hair.

“Yeah...Don't worry about it. I'll call David soon so he can tell me about it.”

“I'm so sorry, I'll call you back this evening, okay?” Emma sighed.

“Don’t worry about it. You can tell us everything next time we have dinner at Granny’s,” Mary Margaret reassured her “Now go text Ruby!”

“Okay, _mum_.” Emma chuckled.

After saying goodbye, she gave the phone back to David. Then, she plopped down on the couch next to him, who had been sitting there since she began talking to Mary Margaret, and started to tap furiously on the screen of her phone.

**E: God, Ruby I’ve been backstage for just a few minutes.**

**E: Yes it went well. I’m in.**

**E: Killian will be my coach.**

**E: Speaking of him he’ll come to speak to me in a few so please don’t call me.**

**E: You can give me the third degree when I get home.**

**R: KILLIAN JONES?!**

Looking at the three grey dots on the screen, Emma sighed and threw her phone in her purse.

That was when Killian entered the room, greeting her with a huge grin on his face. He was still wearing the skinny black jeans and black shirt unbuttoned at the top same as before, but in the meantime he had rolled up the sleeves.

Standing both up, Emma said hello and then introduced him to David.

Making eye contact with her immediately, Killian explained that they decided to talk with each one of the members of their team right after their audition, and how he was going to ask her to talk about herself. This way they could get to know them before the beginning of the lessons. Then he trailed off, noticing Emma’s worried expression at the prospect of sharing so much personal information with a stranger.  

“Don’t worry Emma. I’m just going to ask you something about music. You know, just to get to know what your style is like, what you can do, and things like that,” he reassured her. Then looking at David, he added “If it makes you feel more comfortable, your boyfriend can stay. It’s not a problem.”

Emma and David looked at each other, taken aback by what he said, “We’re not-” they both started.

“We’re not together,” Emma continued, “He’s my best friend!”

“And I already have a girlfriend,” David added.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t know...I just assumed-” Killian hesitated, blushing a little “This is awkward”.

“You know, you’re the first one to think we are a couple,” Emma stated, somewhat amused by his reaction.

“There’s always a first time for _everything_ ,” he pointed out with a smirk, making Emma roll her eyes.

Feeling out of place, David decided to wait at the cafeteria, so he faked a call from Mary Margaret and after saying Emma where to find him, he left them alone.

“It seems we’re alone now,” he said cheekily, wiggling his eyebrows.

Emma crossed her arms, “Really?!”

“I’m just joking, love,” he replied, putting on an innocent face.

“Don’t call me love,” she retorted.

“As you wish, lo- Emma” he said, sitting on the couch and patting the cushion next to him. “You can sit, if you want. I swear I don’t bite,” he offered, winking at her “Unless you want me to.”

“Does it all have to be an innuendo with you?” Emma groaned, hiding her face in her hands.

He just stared at her with a smug grin plastered on his face.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, she sat on the opposite end of the couch. She really couldn’t understand how so many girls had a crush on him. Okay, his songs were amazing and he was hot ( _No, not hot. Gorgeous. Maybe even dazzling. I’m not blind_ ), but not only he was known to get often drunk at parties and then leave every single time with a different woman, he was also a pervert and an ass.

Slowly they started talking. He asked her when she learned to sing, if she had ever written some lyrics, if she could play another instrument in addition to the piano and many more. She answered as truthfully as she could without disclosing anything too personal about her past, except for mentioning that the reason behind her love for music was that she had had a bad childhood.

The time they had to talk was almost up when Emma realised she didn’t know where the cafeteria was, so Killian offered to accompany her. She refused ( _It’s a tv studio, not a freaking metropolis! She could find her way to the cafeteria on her own_ ), but he insisted, saying he was a gentleman and that it was the chivalrous thing to do ( _Yeah, he said that. Unbelievable_ ).

After walking in silence around a labyrinth of corridors for a couple of minutes, they reached a door with the letters ‘CAFETERIA’ attached on it.

“Here we are,” Killian said breaking the silence, “It was a pleasure to meet you, Emma.”

“Likewise,” Emma replied, her smile a little too forced.

She'd already turned around and pushed the door open when his voice stopped her.

“Oh, I’d almost forgotten! Your lessons will start next Saturday at 9 am,” he informed her, “And don’t be late!”

“On a Saturday morning? It’s not me I’m worried about,” she retorted and then walked away in search for David.

*          *          *

Killian stared for a few moments at the wooden door in front of him, stunned. She was a completely different person from what he’d imagined after her audition. He had thought she was a beautiful shy, sweet and determined lass, whereas the woman he’d just talked to was beautiful and determined yes, but also fiery and strong.

Realising it was getting late, he rushed back onstage where Robin, Tink and Ariel were waiting for him, and sat on his chair.

“Now that she’s not here, would you tell me the truth about why you didn’t push the button?” he asked, curiosity written all over his face.

“Well,” Ariel started, “We simply didn’t hear what you said you had.”

“Yeah, she’s a great singer but that’s it,” Tink agreed with her, “I didn’t feel anything.”

Killian was shocked. That wasn’t at all the answer he expected.

“Are you kidding me?!” he exclaimed, clearing his throat.

“No, mate,” it was Robin’s turn to remark, “Listen, we know what you’ve been through and we all know that’s not something you’ll ever completely get over from. Could it be that you unconsciously projected your feelings on that song? That you just imagined to hear what you said you had?”

The lights started to fade out and they all got ready for a new audition. Except Killian.

He tried to concentrate on it but he just couldn’t. He’d been sure he felt Emma’s emotions: the loneliness, the heartbreak, the anger and also the joy all beautifully mixed together and coming through her voice. Although now, after talking to her and hearing Robin’s words, he wasn’t so sure about it.

A new, small voice started to whisper words in his head: _Maybe Robin is right. What if it wasn’t real? What if the connection I thought we had was just the product of my imagination?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wanted to listen to Emma's song at the auditions it's Flares by The Script. Also I forgot to say that I don't own the characters nor The Voice, I just like putting my otp in different scenarios.  
> Happy holidays! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY HOLIDAYS! Since it’s Christmas time and the end of the year is just a couple of days away, I decided to post this a week early. This doesn’t mean that the next chapter will be up next week though, nope, you’ll have to wait for two weeks as usual :)
> 
> Lots of hugs and huge thanks to my lovely friends and betas Tessa and Elena <33
> 
> That said, happy new year and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Emma’s week passed quickly, between chasing perps and dreading the upcoming first lesson with Killian on Saturday morning. Not even a dinner at Granny’s with her nosy friends had provided her the distraction she needed as the main topic for the evening had been, of course, Killian Jones and Emma’s audition. Ruby and Mary Margaret had wanted to know every single detail, from how it felt talking with four famous singers, the way Killian smelled. As if she knew that! ( _Please Emma, you totally do_ . _He smells like some kind of spicy cologne, with a hint of leather. But they don’t have to know that, right?_ )

Fortunately, she survived the dinner without having to share too much about their private chat backstage, because the more she thought about it, the more she felt guilty. Killian had been nice, after all. He had tried to make her feel at ease, and he had never pushed her into telling him something she was uncomfortable about. Whereas she had only been harsh to him, just because she had judged him by what she’d read on the papers. She knew that most of the time those articles were full of crap, but after he’d started flirting with her she couldn’t help thinking they might have been telling the truth.

When she woke up on Saturday morning, she was still unsure whether she should apologise to him or just forget about it. However, thinking about that they would spend - hopefully - a lot of time together, she decided to apologise as soon as possible.

She arrived at the studios ten minutes early. A woman at the reception greeted her and told her where she would find Killian. 

Following the directions given to her, Emma reached a light wooden door with her coach’s name written next to it. A part of her was still convinced that he would have been late and hungover, but she secretly hoped to be wrong. Taking a deep breath, Emma knocked on the door. Since she didn’t hear a reply, she slowly opened it, taking a peek inside.

He was already there, sitting on a stool next to the piano, the sleeves of his blue flannel shirt rolled up. He was strumming a guitar and singing to one of his songs, eyes closed, his voice low and modulated.

Emma just stayed there at the door, staring at him, her mouth hanging slightly open.

 _Damn! He’s a little sexy like this, with- No, Emma!_ She scolded herself.

After a few seconds he opened his eyes, as if he’d sensed her presence, and seeing her at the door he stopped playing. He stood up, put down the guitar and gestured for her to come in.

Emma swiftly entered the room, closing the door behind her, and then stopped.

“It seems like neither of us were late, after all,” Killian coldly commented, his eyes fixed on hers.

“Yeah...” she admitted, trying to hold his piercing gaze and failing.

“About that, I…” she started, looking at her feet and fidgeting with the seam of her t-shirt, but then the words died on her lips.

“Yes?” he urged her.

“I wanted to apologise for what happened a few days ago,” Emma continued and then started babbling, “You were being nice to me but then you started flirting and I thought about what people say about you and I couldn’t help thinking they were right, so I...I’m sorry.”

When he spoke, Emma looked at him. He was smiling softly, but his set jaw betrayed him.

“It’s alright, Swan,” he reassured her, approaching her, and then added with an extended hand, “I’m sorry I made you feel uncomfortable. What do you say if we start over?”

“Okay,” she agreed, shaking his hand, “I’m Emma Swan.”

“And I’m Killian Jones. Nice to meet you again,” he said back, “Now, how about we get started? There are many things to do today.”

Emma nodded, her eyes meeting his. They were impossibly blue, shining with curiosity and something else that looked a lot like irritation.

 _But it couldn’t be, right? He’s being so nice!_ She thought, trying to brush off the feeling.

Sure of having her attention, Killian started explaining her what will happen when they will start shooting next week. She’d have to sing a duet with one of her teammates, and when their performance was over, he would have to choose who to send home.

As he explained the situation, he walked back to the piano where a folder was laying on the piano stool. He opened it and flicked through the sheets inside, looking for something.

Seeing that he was struggling, Emma got closer to him and said, "Do you need a hand?"

Killian, caught off guard by her movement, turned around, jumping a little.

Emma quickly murmured an apology and, seeing that he found what he had been looking for, took a step back.

Killian looked at the piece of paper in his hands and, absentmindedly scratching behind his head, gave it to her, “This is what you're going to sing next Saturday.”

Emma lowered her gaze to read the title of the song and her brows knitted in confusion.

“I know it's a bit different from what you're used to singing, but not too much. You already have great potential, so it won’t be a problem for you,” he acknowledged, but seeing her falter he added, “I just want to push your limits.”

Even though Emma was still rather hesitant about it, she thanked him with a smile and got ready to sing, knowing that only he could choose the songs and that she couldn’t easily change his mind.

They started with some warm up exercises, Killian sitting on the piano stool and Emma standing next to him, her eyes fixed on his. He seemed distant. He kept staring at her, but not actually looking at her, only coming back to himself to tell her to do another exercise.

After warming up their voices, they began working to the song. At first they listened to it on YouTube, Killian played it on the piano so Emma could sing along. It wasn’t the most difficult song she’d ever sung, and she was quite confident in her abilities.

It took no time at all for her self-confidence to break into million of pieces, though, because he interrupted her and snapped at her because she was off key ( _or so he claimed_ ). It wasn’t this first comment that brought her down, though but the many, _many_ others that followed. Her intonation was never good enough for him, and he even found fault in her interpretation ( _please, are you kidding me?!)_.

At the end of the lesson, Emma was fuming, but she tried with all her might to not let it show. She had been completely taken aback by the sudden change in his behaviour.

_He had been so kind and friendly, at first, and then he turned into a cold and nonsensical dickhead!_

She only half listened to him when he said to come back on Tuesday and then, muttering a brief ‘bye,’ she left the room.

While Emma was buying some water at the vending machine at the end of the corridor, someone tapped on her shoulder making her jump a little. Turning around, she found herself face to face with a woman. She looked very much like the woman who had been sitting in front of her in the waiting room last week.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you! I know this is awkward, it’s just... I have my first lesson with Killian in an hour. I arrived early and...I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I was passing by and I heard what happened,” she babbled, “Are you okay?”

“Oh!” Emma blinked, surprised by her concern, “I’m fine, thanks.”

“I don’t understand why he got angry though, you were brilliant!” she complimented her, her forehead furrowing a little, “I’m Elsa, by the way.”

Emma thanked her, her cheeks turning pink.

“I’m Emma,” she introduced herself, then looking at the watch on her wrist, she added, “I’m sorry Elsa, but I’ve got to go.”

“It’s okay! It was nice to meet you, Emma,” Elsa replied.

Saying goodbye, Emma walked away, eager to go home and forget what happened, or at least, try to. And she even did a great job, if anyone asked her. Not that anyone would (except for Elsa, mind you), because none of her friends suspected a thing. As far as they knew, the lesson went well and she was happy to have such a great singer as a teacher.

Things started going south after Tuesday morning lesson, though.

Nothing changed from Saturday. She would sing perfectly, and he would still yell at her for her intonation, never satisfied. It was beyond frustrating, especially because she couldn’t exercise properly with his continuous interruptions. However, what infuriated her the most was his insistence on her poor interpretation.

“No, no, no! It’s completely wrong!” he growled at her, “There’s too much anger and you’re too soft at the beginning. Plus-”

_That’s it. I’ve had enough._

“Listen there, buddy!” she shouted back, her eyes sparking with fury, “First, I’ve been singing for long enough to know when - and if - I’m off pitch. I’m so sick of you telling me my intonation is wrong when it clearly isn’t. And second, I am the one singing, so the interpretation is mine to give; so don’t you dare tell me it’s wrong, because it simply can’t be.”

During her outburst, Emma noticed how Killian’s jaw dropped. He was speechless. So shocked, that he didn’t even move a muscle when she stormed out from the room.

She almost stumbled against Elsa in the corridor.

“Emma, are you alright?” she asked, eyes wide with concern.

Emma shook her head, trying to fight back the angry tears from welling up in her eyes and run away.

She tried to forget, but this time around it was easier said than done. At this point it was pretty much clear that something was off. She wished she knew what made him hate her. She tried to understand in the following days, she really did, but the only thing she could think about was that he was still angry at her for judging him before actually knowing him.

_But it couldn't be only this, right? I mean, I’ve already apologised…_

If this time stopping thinking about it was hard, hiding what happened to her friends had been even harder. Especially because on Wednesday evening they were going at Granny’s, and well, hiding something is much easier when talking on phone.

_Maybe it's better if I tell them…_

_Nah, they'd just get worried. I can handle him on my own just fine._

Fortunately, David and Mary Margaret got engaged less than a month ago, so one of the main topic at dinner had been the wedding for a few weeks, among with Killian Jones and everything regarding the show.

Since David got the night shift at the station, Mary Margaret talked nonstop about wedding dresses.

“Emma, are you alright?” Mary Margaret asked her, frowning slightly “You’ve been staring at those onion rings for a while.”

“Oh?” Emma lifted her gaze from her plate “I’m fine,” she reassured her, hoping her I’ve-never-been-better mask would deceive her.

“Really, Em,” Ruby persisted, “It looks like you want to murder them.”

“I’m okay,” she insisted, taking a gulp of her beer, “I’m just a bit tired. You know, between work and singing lessons…”

Emma took a bite of a onion ring ,and said, after gulping it down, “So… What about our bridesmaid dresses? Have you already chosen a particular colour?”

It was enough to change subject and make Mary Margaret rant about the wedding. Again.

When she got home, her phone buzzed with a message.

**K: Hi Emma, it’s Killian. I just wanted to let you know that you have rehearsals with Will on Friday, at 3 pm.**

**E: Okay**

**E: How did you get my number?**

**K: Calm down, lass. I'm not a stalker.**

**K: They give us the numbers of all the members of our team.**

**E: Oh, right.**

Not waiting for a possible reply, she shut down her phone and got ready to go to bed.

_Will. I'm going to sing with Will. This is a joke, isn't it?_

From what she'd heard about him, he was used to singing songs like Numb.

She loved rock songs, she really did, but she wasn’t good at actually singing them. They usually are mostly aggressive, whereas she liked to have a wider range of emotions to work with. However, it could have been worse. After all, the first two verses portrayed some other emotions too, in addition to anger. So, she could work with that, but still. Not only Killian had been an ass the whole week, but he also put her in a position of disadvantage. It was beyond infuriating.

Then, a brilliant idea came to her mind which allowed Emma to fall asleep, not worried anymore by her relationship with Killian and about Saturday's performance.

Eventually the rehearsal went well, mostly thanks to Killian who didn't talk much. Also, Will ended up being a pretty nice guy. They sounded good together too, which was great considering that she didn't sing as well as she could on purpose. She sang slightly off pitch here and there and held back on the interpretation, trying not to  show any strong emotion in an effort to make it sound dull.

On Saturday, Emma was pretty calm and relaxed. When she arrived at the studios, everyone had started asking her if she knew what to do, and remembering she and Will would be the third couple to go on stage. Normally this would have made her extremely anxious, but not this time.

Meanwhile she was getting her makeup done, Ashley, one of the make-up artists, joked, “You don't seem nervous at all, Emma. How do you do that? Are you sure you have to sing today?”

Emma smirked, staring at her reflection on the mirror. Ashley was right: she wasn't nervous, she was determined. She had a job to do, and once it was all over, Killian wouldn't know what had hit him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weee it’s time for an update! I hope you guys are having a nice beginning of the year :) In this chapter you’ll see some singing and maybe some of your questions will be answered...I hope you like it!
> 
> As always, thank you to my lovely friends and betas Tessa and Elena. Huge thanks to the ladies of the CS Writers’ Hub too for being so supportive and for helping me get some writing done <3

Belle called Emma’s name first.

When she arrived on stage, after carefully climbing a flight of stairs with her sky high heels, her sight fell on Killian’s wide eyes and she smiled slyly at him. His reaction at her black leather mini dress had been exactly the one she’d expected.

She watched Will walk up onto the stage and pick up two mics, as she tucked a lock of her loose curls behind her ear. Wishing good luck at each other with a timid and excited smile, Will gave Emma her microphone. They both faced the audience, side by side, and waited for the music to start.

As planned the day before, Emma had to wait to join Will for the refrain after he’d sung the first verse.

When he started singing, Emma had to admit he was good, but she knew she was better. Only half listening to Will’s performance, she took a look at the judges: Tink, Robin and Ariel were having fun, mouthing the lyrics and attempting to dance while still sitting on their chairs, whereas Killian was staring at them, focused on their performance.

Hearing the last lyrics of the first verse, Emma took a deep breath and got ready to sing. Will’s gruff voice balanced her much softer one, but Emma was still partially  holding back for later. They moved around the stage, sometimes finding each other face to face, other times getting closer to the edge of the stage so they could interact with the audience. Emma felt like they were two wolves, dancing around and studying each other, ready to battle for supremacy.

 _And I'm the one who's gonna win_ , she thought as the refrain came to an end, her eyes shining with determination.

Emma stopped in the middle of the stage and smoothly moved onto the second verse.

At first, her voice was soft and sweet, but it got rougher and rougher every passing line. She managed to balance perfectly all the emotions, and express them without any apparent effort.

The resulting effect was beautiful: anger gradually taking place of the beginning affection and frustration.

_Can't you see that you're smothering me?_

_Holding too tightly, afraid to lose control_

_'Cause everything that you thought I would be_

_Has fallen apart right in front of you_

_Every step that I take is another mistake to you_

_And every second I waste is more than I can take!_

After ending the verse with a powerful high note, which made the audience go wild, Will joined her for the refrain. He looked stunned by her performance and even Killian - who was trying his best not to let it show - was quite shocked, his eyes slightly widened were giving him away.

Emma kept singing at high capacity through the whole song, lost in the atmosphere and cheered by the audience.

She lifted her eyes to look at the coaches, the last note of the song still resonating in the air. When she saw all four of them ( _Yes, Killian too_ ), behaving just like all the other people in the room, standing up and applauding them, she couldn’t suppress the huge grin that spread through her face.

Belle joined them onstage, putting herself in between Will and Emma, and the applause died down.

“Wow, that was great guys! Maybe one of the best performances so far. What do you think Robin?”

“You both were absolutely amazing! You and Killian did such a good job,” he complimented them.

Killian bent forward to look at him, raising his right eyebrow. “Why, did you have any doubts?”

“Maybe I did, but not about them,” Robin replied cheekily.

“You wound me,” Killian gasped over dramatically, putting a hand on his chest, “I thought we were friends!”

“Will you two knock it off?” Tink groaned, “They were brilliant! When I was told that you were going to sing Numb I knew you would have been great Will, and you definitely didn't let me down. Though, I was a bit worried about you, Emma, because I thought you were too sweet and naive. But damn girl, there’s fire in you! I couldn’t have been so wrong.”

Ariel nodded along, “Yeah, Tink is right. I think you started off a bit insecure, but then, when you sang alone, you literally blew me away! And Robin was speechless too, even though he doesn’t want to admit it.”

“Hmm, maybe,” Robin caved in, winking at her.

Still breathless, Emma muttered a few words to thank them for the compliments, her cheeks flushing pink, whereas Will just smiled and nodded. She felt bad for him, she really did, because Will was caught blindsided between her and Killian.

“So, now Killian is the time to tell us who’s gonna stay in your team and who’s going to leave,” Belle announced.

“Do I really have to?” he uselessly pleaded Belle, pouting a little. Giving her a puppy eyed look and an apologetic nod, he continued, “Okay then, first I’d like to tell you that you were great. You both were perfect in terms of intonation and interpretation, but I have to make a choice. I would keep you both in my team, if that were possible, but unfortunately it isn’t. So please, no matter what happens, don’t stop following your dreams.”

Both Emma and Will shook their heads, too nervous to even breathe out a word.

“Will,” Killian sighed, passing his hand through his hair, “I’m sorry, but Emma is the one who will be performing again in a couple of weeks.”

A whirlwind of emotions passed on Emma’s face: joy, satisfaction, incredulity and something that felt a lot like guilt. Too shocked to move, she stood still for a moment until she saw Will reaching for her to embrace her in a hug, which only lasted a few seconds.

 _He chose me! I can’t believe it actually worked._  

Murmuring a thank you, Emma faked a grateful smile for the cameras and then headed backstage, the audience still cheering for her. Glancing behind her back one last time before descending the stairs, she saw Killian following her with his gaze and Will still standing next to Belle, his head tilted down. A spark of uneasiness flowed through her.

Turning around, Emma shrugged off the guilt that had settled in her stomach and walked through the door that would lead her backstage.It was a game after all. Will would have done the same thing. 

After the ritual post-performance talk in front of a camera about the way she felt now and back on stage, she heard a bell ringing, indicating they were taking a break from shooting.

She was leaning against a wall, drinking some water when Killian found her. He usually went straight to his changing room to relax a few minutes, like his friends always did, but not this time. He’d wanted to apologise to Emma for being such an ass, but as he approached her he felt his confidence falter a little. The speech he had prepared a few minutes before, didn’t seem enough of an apology anymore.

Even though she looked like she had been waiting for him, she only seemed to notice his presence when he stood right in front of her. He was about to mutter an apology when her stunning emerald eyes met his, giving him a questioning look.

The words died on his lips, so he just stared at her, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times. He was quite sure he had seen a sparkle of hope flickering in her eyes, but when a pathetic “Good job,” left his lips, a mask of indifference fell on her face.

Spotting David at the end of the luckily deserted corridor, Emma thanked him briefly.

Killian watched her walk away towards David, then turned around and reluctantly joined Ariel and the others onstage. All he wanted to do was go back home and have a drink ( _or possibly two_ ), but he couldn't. To Killian, it felt like the following hours would never pass.

When he finally got home that evening, he dropped the keys on the tea table in front of the sofa and went into the kitchen. Grabbing a bottle of rum from the top left cupboard, he poured some in a glass and gulped it down with a large swig. Killian served himself another drink and, glass in hand, walked into the living room. He plopped down on the sofa and switched on the tv, nursing his drink and enjoying the warm feeling in his stomach. Hoping that it could distract him enough to stop thinking about Emma Swan, he picked an old episode of Sherlock on Netflix, but of course it didn’t work.

He had been so stupid. Yes, he got angry when she told him she’d thought he was the man the tabloids said he was, but then she apologised. She did look like she was truly sorry and if Robin’s words after her audition hadn’t already settled doubts in his mind way before their first lesson, he wouldn’t have been such an obnoxious asshole for the whole week. Unfortunately that didn’t happen though, so he decided that she would duet Numb with Will, to test if Robin was right. He’d wanted to see if she would still make him feel that emotional connection with her, even if he put her in a situation in which she had to sing something that wasn’t really her style. However, he soon realised that wasn’t going to work as everytime she sang during her first lesson, she had the same effect on him. Consequently, Robin’s voice would start ringing in his head on repeat, followed by the flow of memories of Milah, making his wariness grow and hence his rudeness.

He had been so confused. He didn’t really know how to deal with his feelings. He was a mess: sometimes he was kind, and then he would scold her for being off key or for her poor interpretation a few moments later, even if it wasn’t true.

Then came the day in which she gave him a piece of her mind ( _and rightly so_ ). She definitely was a tough lass, so different from all the others. She treated him as a real person and not just as a famous singer. That had been pretty much clear from the very beginning, when they talked backstage, but that outburst confirmed it.

She was _dangerous_ , and so he did the only thing that seemed reasonable at that time: he kept her at arm’s length. And it had worked up until that morning, when she walked onstage with that sexy leather dress, which hugged her figure in all the right places, and high heels that accentuated her long, perfect legs. And as if that wasn’t enough, she smiled smugly at him and proceeded to blow him away with her talent.

He'd felt that pull again, and there was no denying it this time. It was like she had the ability to make him feel not only all the emotions she was pouring in the lyrics, but some of hers too. She was just amazing. She put the bar so high that Will, with all his talent, couldn’t do anything to beat her.

He knew he needed to apologise to her, and he even got a speech ready in record time after Will went backstage. Though when a few minutes later he heard the bell, he rushed backstage and that’s when he royally fucked up everything.

 _I don’t know what happened, but my mind went blank and I said the first thing I could think about!_  Killian thought, letting out a sigh.

But maybe there was a way to fix the mess he’d made.

Reaching for the remote to lower the volume of the television, he grabbed his phone and called her.

“Hello?” Emma answered immediately, not looking at the number, her voice tired even though it was still early.

“Good evening, lass,” he greeted her cheerfully.  

“You?! Why are you calling me?” she retorted, suddenly sounding pretty much awake.

“Relax, Swan!” he exclaimed, “I just wanted to properly apologise for my behaviour, so I thought we could get a coffee together. If you want, of course.”

Emma stayed in silence for a while. He sounded like he truly wanted to fix things between them, however she was still too angry at him.

“Okay,” she murmured.

 _Oh my God, why did I say that?_ She thought, feeling the panic building.

“What?” She could hear the smile on his lips. He clearly had heard her, but the smug bastard wanted her to say it again.

“I said okay,” she coldly repeated with more certainty, “Is tomorrow at nine good for you?”

“Sure! There’s a place not far from the studios that’s always pretty quiet and away from prying eyes. I’ll send you the address, if that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow then.”

“Good night, Swan.”

 _It seems that tomorrow is going to be an interesting day_ , Killian thought, gulping down one last sip of rum.

* * *

Emma arrived at the Cafe a few minutes early and, not wanting to wait for him outside in the cold, she decided to get in.

She spotted him immediately. He was sitting on a table at the back of the room, reading a book.

“Is this seat taken?” she asked with a smile, startling him. He had been so focused on his book that he hadn’t seen her entering the cafe.

Gesturing her to take a seat, he put the book on the side.

“Emma…” he started, scratching behind his head.

“Yes?” she urged him.

“I just wanted to apologise for my behaviour. I’ve been an ass,” he admitted, “At first I was upset you judged me on what people say about me. But the main reason was that after what Robin said to me and what happened in the past, I was scared of you. But at the same time I liked you, both as an artist and as a person. I didn’t know what to do and I messed up things pretty bad. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” she said, but when she opened her mouth to question him further, a waitress interrupted her.

“What can I get you?”

“A hot chocolate with cinnamon, please,” Emma replied from habit and added, noticing Killian’s lifted eyebrows and amused smile, “What is it? I'm a hot chocolate kind of girl.”

“Nothing,” he chuckled, “I'll have a black coffee, please.”

“You're so boring,” she mocked him, making him laugh.

They talked about everything and nothing at the same time. She found out he was reading Peter Pan and that he loved books and the sea. He found out she had a sweet tooth and that she loved her old yellow bug. Neither one of them noticed how late it got until people started coming into the Cafe to have lunch.

Emma refused Killian’s offer to pay so, after they both payed for their drinks, they headed outside, Killian putting a cap and a pair of sunglasses on to not be recognised.

Muttering a timid “See you tomorrow”, Emma walked away, turning around one last time to wave at him goodbye.  

When a couple of hours later Killian was getting out of his BMW he had just parked in the garage, his phone rang. Getting it out of his jeans’ pocket, he swiped his thumb on the screen, hoping that Regina wasn’t calling to scold him for something.

“Killian did you have a coffee date with some girl this morning?” she asked him out of the blue.

“Hello to you too, Regina,” he replied, rolling his eyes, “Yes, I did. Why are you asking?”

“They got some pictures of you.”

The color drained from Killian’s face. If by chance those vermins got a picture of him and Emma, things would get bad. For the both of them.

“They are too blurry to see who she is,” she continued calmly, and Killian released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, “But Killian, if you could tell me who she is or what’s going on, it’d be-”

“It’s Emma Swan,” he interrupted her, “It’s her in the pictures. We had a disagreement of sorts, so I asked her to have a coffee with me as a way to apologise.”

“I see...Don’t worry, I’ll bury everything. But please, be more careful next time,” Killian opened his mouth to speak, but she continued, “I know it’s not really your fault, but we don’t need a scandal right now, as much as we don’t want them to dig into Emma’s life and write crap about her.”     

“I will,” he promised, “Thanks, Regina.”

“Oh, and Killian?” she addressed him, right before ending the call, “It would be better if you tell her what happened. Trust me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emma is wearing the leather dress from 3x12 and the song she's singing with Will is Numb by Linkin Park. Also, this is how I imagined Killian's house being: outdoor http://lahome88.com/images/photos/5.jpg and indoor http://www.home-designing.com/2014/11/warm-modern-interior-design (first 8 pictures).


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exams season is the worst but here’s an update for you! I’m very busy studying stuff at the moment so I didn’t have much time to write but don’t worry, you’ll get another chapter in two weeks :) I hope you like this chapter! (please don’t shout at me too much..no wait, on secound thought shout at me all you want! I love reding your comments)
> 
> As always, thank you to my lovely friends and betas Tessa and Elena . Shout out to the ladies of the CS Writers’ Hub too for being so supportive and wonderful friends <3

When Emma arrived at the studios on Monday morning for her lesson with Killian, she was way more relaxed than she had been the previous days.   
  
She didn't really know what to think when he had offered to have coffee together. She still had been pretty angry at him, but then she accepted to meet him. Why she said yes was still a mystery to her, though. Maybe it was because, deep down, she knew he wasn't really the man who had made her life hell for a week; or maybe it was because he sounded so adorably nervous at the phone. Actually, she had been nervous as well at the prospect of meeting him, which was ridiculous, since it was far past the first time she had talked to him. But at the same time it felt like it was still that . The man whose cheeks turned slightly pink in shame when he apologised to her, and the book geek in love with everything involving the sea, seemed different from the one she was used talking to. It had been nice to see another part of him, so distant from the cocky and flirtatious ones she got to meet.  
  
Somehow they had clicked and it was just so easy talking to him, that they didn't stop for hours. However, when the spell it seemed they were under broke, her instinct to run away grew stronger. So that's what she did, she ran, only turning around to wave goodbye at him before disappearing behind the corner.   
  
If they hadn't noticed how late it already was, to Emma it felt like she could have disclosed all the things she had buried away long ago, and that scared her. Given her troubled childhood, jumping from foster family to foster family, and what happened years later in Boston, she didn't trust people easily. However, a small, less guarded part of her wanted to trust him, no matter if she could get hurt because of that in the future.   
  
When without even knocking she opened the door of their Music Room, she got greeted by a sleepy good morning.   
  
Killian was sitting on the wooden floor, his laptop and two steamy cups of coffee placed in front of him.

  
"This is the last time we start a lesson this early," he mumbled, passing a hand through his already messy hair.  
  
Chuckling softly at the scene, Emma sat down next to him.  
  
"Are you so tired you need two coffees?"  
  
"Nope, this is for you," he said, passing her one of the cups, "Hot chocolate with cinnamon, right?"  
  
Emma blinked, speechless, her eyes moving from him to the cup in his hand.  
  
"Yeah. You remembered?" she asked, her voice small.  
  
"Of course I did," he smiled, "Now, drink it up before it gets cold."  
  
Taking her drink, she took a sip of it, the familiar flavour of cinnamon and the sweetness of chocolate pervading her mouth.  
  
They stayed in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, enjoying their drinks. Then, putting his now empty cup of coffee aside, Killian opened some pictures on the computer.   
  
Emma frowned. It was the café they went in yesterday, but she could see her french braid on the back of her head and Killian smiling at her in the background.  
  
"The paps got a few pictures of us yesterday," he explained, his eyes fixed on her face to study her reaction, "Fortunately, they are all so blurry it's impossible for them to know who you are. My manager, Regina, is working on it as we speak, so they wouldn't make your name on the articles that surely will be written about it."  
  
Emma's expression was indecipherable, so he continued, unconsciously rubbing behind his ear, "I've never thought this would happen. It's not the first time I've gone to that place, especially because it's quiet and hidden away from the paps' prying eyes…I just didn't want you to get in the papers so soon."  
  
"Hey, it's okay," she reassured him putting a hand on his shoulder, "I know it's not your fault, and I'm sure Regina is going to fix everything. I appreciate your concern though."   
  
Killian just nodded and closed the files.   
  
"I know that the show is just going to air in a couple of days, and that it'd take a while until people would start talking about you and all the others, but if you need someone to talk to, I'm just a text or a phone call away."  
  
"Thank you. You know, I like this part of you much more than the ‘flirtatious bad boy’ version of you," she teased him, nudging him lightly.  
  
"I'm quite sure you'd like some other _parts_ of me too, love," he pointed out, winking at her, and then chuckled at Emma's eye roll.  
  
"Anyway," he continued, "you know what's going to happen in two weeks time, don't you?"  
  
"Yeah,” she nodded, “I'll have to compete against someone of our team, who won't sing the same song I do, and then you'll choose which one of us will stay."  
  
"Good. I see you've come prepared," he joked, "I'm going to make you listen to a bunch of songs now, to choose which one you're going to sing, is that okay?"  
  
He opened up a folder called 'Emma' on the player, and they started listening to the playlist. They were all well known songs and in line with her style. They didn't listen to them all though, just to the ones she liked the most.  
  
Once they had narrowed it down to just three songs, Emma asked Killian, who had been quiet since they started to listen to them, his opinion.   
  
"I think the Coldplay's one, Paradise, would be perfect for you."  
  
"Why?" Emma frowned.  
  
"Because I have a feeling you might understand perfectly its meaning," he answered, looking straight at her eyes, as if he could read each single thought passing through her mind.  
  
She didn't like that look at all. It made her feel exposed, and vulnerable.  
  
"How do you…?" she trailed off.  
  
"You mentioned you had a troubled past when we met, and you have that look in your eyes… The look of someone who's been hurt badly or left behind by the people you loved the most," he calmly explained, "You are something of an open book, love."  
  
When they had talked for the first time, it had been clear to him that she was pretty closed off, and if he was right, he wouldn't blame her. After all, he could count the number of people who really knew him only on the fingers of one hand. He saw the same look in her eyes he could see reflected on a mirror whenever he looked at one. He knew the feeling, and he also knew he had to be careful of what he'd say, but when her eyes widened and she paled, he could tell it had been too much too soon. However, her reaction also revealed him he had been right and he felt a pang of sadness in his chest.  
  
Emma's mouth opened a few times, but no sound left her lips.  
  
"Emma," Killian reached for her, his voice having a weird soothing effect on her, "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, and I'm not going to ask you to. I could tell all of that just because I've been through a lot of shit too."  
  
Emma seemed to relax at his words.  
  
"You're right. Paradise is perfect," she swiftly changed subject.  
  
"Okay. What do you say if we sing now?"  
  
Killian stood up and extended his hand to help her, but she didn't take it and walked up to the piano.   
  
When Emma's lesson came to an end, she could hardly believe it was already over. It had been so nice and fun spending time with him, that to her it felt like she entered the Music Room only minutes ago.   
  
Saying goodbye, she exited the room with a big smile brightening her face, not noticing the matching one which was forming on Killian's lips.  
  
Since there were only four people in each team now, Emma had a lesson with Killian every day, and she didn't mind it at all. On the contrary, it was the part of the day she looked forward to. Not for the lesson per se, but for the opportunity to talk with Killian. They got on so well that they would spend most of their lessons talking about everything not concerning the show.  
  
They had started texting as well, and now she was starting to consider him a friend. It had all began on Monday evening, when she received a text from him, while she had been sitting on the sofa, trying to find something to watch on tv. He had sent her a picture of his expensive tv hanged on a beige painted wall ( _and was that thing right under it an electric fireplace?!_ ).  
  
 **K: Swan help me. Which movie should I watch?**

**  
E: I don't know…Iron Man?  
  
**

**K: No. It's Animated Movie Monday  
K: Did you only suggest Iron Man because of Robert Downey Jr?  
  
**

**E: What have you already watched, then?  
E: No..  
  
**

**K: Nothing. I've just made it up.**

**K: You sure Swan?**  
  
 _He's such a dork_ , Emma thought, giggling at the screen.   
  


**E: Okay maybe I did :P  
E: Wall-E  
  
**

**K: What? Really? That's your first choice?  
  
**

**E: Yeah, I want something cheesy and funny.  
  
**

**K: But I'm the one who's going to watch it.  
  
**

**E: Nope. I'm going to watch it with you.  
  
**

**K: As you wish, my lady**  
  
After that evening, they would text all the time. At first, it was like a big game of twenty questions. That's how they found out some trivia facts about each other, such as favourite pizza toppings (pepperoni for him and just extra cheese for her), Hogwarts house (Slytherin for him and Gryffindor for her) and favourite fantasy book (they both agreed on Harry Potter). Then, he had started sending her awful puns that she would never admit they were funny (but he knew she actually liked them).  
  
Killian was not the only new friend she had made, though. Elsa had made it through the duets too, and they would always chat a little in between each others’ lessons.

When they had met, Emma thought she was quite talkative, but it turned out that she was just a shy and reserved woman. They were much alike, and maybe that's why they got on so well.  
  
One day, at the cafeteria, she met Elsa's sister, Anna. She was a nice, ginger girl, but damn she could talk! As Elsa said to her the day before she met Anna, "I love my sister, but she could start a conversation with a bunch of rocks, if only they could talk." However, she also had a beautiful singing voice, and in fact she got into Ariel's team too.  
  
Although Emma loved being at the studios, she also had to work or she wouldn't be able to pay the bills for long.   
  
At that time, she had been chasing a man who skipped bail, abandoning his wife and daughter in the process. It took her weeks to find him, but when she put her plan to arrest him into action, he put up a fight and run away after hitting her hard on the head.   
  
When the following day she entered Killian's Music Room, he was strumming at the piano. Hearing her footsteps he greeted her, his eyes still focused on his fingers hitting the keyboard. It was only when she got closer to him that he stopped playing and looked up at her.   
  
The first thing he noticed were a big angry bruise on her right cheek and another one, which seemed smaller than the other, on the top left of her forehead and hairline.   
  
"Emma!" He exclaimed, shooting up from the piano stool, his eyes wide with concern, "Are you alright? What happened?"  
  
"Yeah, it's nothing," she brushed him off, "A perp wasn't happy to see me."  
  
Her attempt to lighten the mood didn't go as planned, since Killian still looked worried about her.   
  
"I'm fine, really," she repeated hoping to reassure him, "I've had worse."  
  
That didn't make Killian feel any better though, as his mind had started showing him images of Emma banged up laying on a hospital bed, or covered in her own blood after someone stabbed or shot her. He hid his worry away though, and, flashing her what he hoped didn't look like a forced grin, they started working on next week's performance.

Once the lesson was over, Emma opened the door and said goodbye briefly, wanting to get back to work as soon as possible.

"Emma," he stopped her putting a hand on her wrist, his eyes meeting hers, "Please, be careful."

He released her only after she nodded, and he watched her going away.

He didn't receive any text from her that evening, nor in the next couple of days. She didn't even tell him she couldn't make it for their Friday and Saturday lessons. However, he'd started to get really worried when she wouldn't answer to his messages or calls.

As far as he knew she could have gotten seriously hurt, so he decided to try showing up at her door. The fact that he didn't know where she lived, didn't matter to him. With an excuse (and a little flirting), he convinced one of the secretaries to show him her file, in which he found her address.

That evening he knocked at her door with a box of pizza and some of her favourite ice cream (he didn't want to think about the fact that he remembered how she preferred her pizza and which was her favourite icecream flavour, just because she'd mentioned it once).

When she opened the door, he greeted her with a warm smile. She was wearing a pair of leggings and a large t-shirt that ended at the mid of her tights, her hair tied up in a messy bun. She looked lovely, in spite of the bags under her eyes and the old and new bruises that covered her body. The ones on her cheek and forehead were already healing, but the knuckles of her right hand were bruised, a large, purple livid was on her neck and shoulder and by how she was moving her left hand, he could tell she had a cut on her palm.

"Free pizza and ice cream for the lovely Miss Swan," he announced.

She made him room to enter her apartment and then closed the door behind him.

Her place was a mess. Her computer was on the kitchen table, which was covered by papers, and old boxes of take away were piled up on the tea table in front of the sofa, which Emma quickly picked up and threw away, so Killian could put both pizza and ice cream there.

When she returned from the kitchen with a couple of plates and bottles of beer, she sat down on the couch next to him. They ate their dinner in silence, and then she started up The Emperor's New Groove, while Killian was looking for a couple of spoons for the ice cream.

"When was the last time you slept?" He asked, his eyes fixed on the film.

"I don't know."

"Do you have some disinfectant and a gauze? When the film is over I'd like to take a look at that cut."

Emma nodded, licking off the ice cream from the spoon, “In the bathroom.”

"Did you get him?" He asked after a while, interrupting the silence in which they fell.

"No," she sighed, picking another spoonful of Rocky Road.

"I could help you," he suggested.

"What? No!" She exclaimed, finally looking at him, "I can handle him and I work better alone."

"Please, you're my friend and I don't like it when my friends get hurt," he pleaded her, "Let me help you."

"It's too dangerous."

"And do you expect me to leave you dealing with him after saying that? I'm not that kind of man" he said, putting his hand on hers, careful not to hurt her.

She didn't reply.

"Don't you trust me?"

"I…" she hesitated, her voice small, "I don't know if I can take the chance that I'm wrong about you."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For once I've actually managed to post a new chapter on Friday but anyway, I hope you like it! It’s the longest hapter I’ve ever written so far and even though I’ll probably spend my birthday on Sunday sick and studying like crazy for an exam I have the following day, I’ll read all your comments. So don’t be shy! If I don’t reply to the comment you leave here, don’t feel bad. I’ve read it for sure and smiled like a lunatic for the next 5 minutes but either I don’t know what to say except for thank you, or I don’t want to write any spoilers, or I’m simply a shy potato who doesn’t know how to react to compliments :)
> 
> As always, thank you to my lovely friends and betas Tessa and Elena, and shout out to the lovely ladies of the CS Writers’ Hub too for being so supportive and wonderful friends.

Killian woke up the following day with blonde, vanilla-scented hair tickling his nose. At the feeling of Emma's steady breaths on the crook of his neck, he slowly opened his eyes. She looked so small like this, snuggled next to him with her head resting on his shoulder and hand on his stomach. Careful not to wake her, he massaged his neck with his free hand. He didn't remember falling asleep with Emma in his arms, but judging by the frozen image on the television's screen, he didn't even make it to the end of the movie.   
  
It hurt when Emma had told him she wasn't sure she could trust him, but curled up as she had been, her arms around her knees and smiling softly at the film, she looked so fragile that all he'd wanted to do was hold her. After a few minutes in which all they could hear were the voice of a talking llama and the noise of the city outside, Killian stretched a little and stood up.   
  
"Where's the bathroom?"   
  
"Second door to the left," she replied automatically, without giving him even a glance.   
  
Found the correct door, Killian closed it behind him and then he started rummaging inside the cabinets looking for a first aid kit. He was aware that it wasn't the most polite thing to do but, in his defence, he knew that she was never going to show him where it was and allow him to medicate her hand.    
  
Emma didn't notice he had returned until he instructed her, sitting down on the coach, "Give me your hand. The cut one."   
  
She just stared at him for a moment. He was facing her, her first aid kit on his knees and some absorbent cotton already soaked with disinfectant in his hand. Blinking a few times, she offered him her injured hand. He gently held it and studied the still crimson wound.   
  
"This might sting a bit," he warned her before he proceeded to clean the large cut.   
  
Emma winced and hissed a little at the burning sensation, making Killian's hold on her hand tighten to keep her still.   
  
"I'm sorry. I know it hurts but I'm almost done. You're lucky you have all this stuff, though. If you didn't, I'd have had to use some rum and it would have been a bloody waste of it."   
  
"I don't have any rum."   
  
“Bad form,” he teased her with smirk, and then, wincing at the memory, he said, putting the cotton balls aside, ”That stuff is way worse than this on open wounds, trust me.”   
  
"And how do you know that?" She asked, watching him unrolling the gauze.   
  
"Actually, it's an amusing but embarrassing story," he started, bandaging her hand with ease, “I was drunk and craving some food that required me to chop some strawberries: not an easy task after all the drinks I had. I was handling it just fine ‘till my hand slipped and gave myself a deep cut on a finger. As pissed as I was, I thought that using rum instead of going out and buy some disinfectant would have been a good idea. It did its job, but it hurt like hell!"   
  
A small laugh came out from her lips. He couldn't help but feeling lighter at that sound, for he had been the one who made her forget, even though just for a moment, about everything that was troubling her.   
  
"All done," he announced, securing the gauze with a strip of surgical tape.   
  
"Thank you," she murmured, a  curious look on her face, and then added lowering her gaze, "for caring for me."   
  
"My pleasure. And Swan," he began, his tone soft. Then, lifting her chin up with a finger to look at her, he continued, "I care for you, never doubt that. I didn't come banging on your door this evening just because it's my job as a friend. I did it because I was genuinely worried. I wanted to make sure you were alright and take care of you, if needed."   
  
Seeing she was at loss of words, he gave her a soft smile and stood up, cotton balls and box in hand.   
  
"I'll come back in a little."   
  
Emma nodded slightly, and watched him taking a few steps before bringing her attention back to the movie.   
  
He went to the bathroom first, to put away the first aid kit, and then he headed towards the kitchen. After finding the waste bin and throwing away the used cotton balls, he stopped to look if he could find the name of the jerk she was chasing written on any of the papers placed on the table. He thanked his lucky stars when he managed to find it in a matter of seconds. He could go back to Emma without her noticing a thing.   


As soon as he sat back down on the couch, Emma drew in closer to him, their bodies barely touching. Killian put his arm around her shoulders. They just stayed there, Emma breathing out a small laugh whenever Killian started delivering the characters' lines with a ridiculous high-pitched voice. They were halfway through the film when Emma rested her head on his shoulder, dozing off in just a few minutes. The regular sound of her breathing must have lulled him to sleep, but he couldn't exactly remember  _ when _ that happened.    
  
The low content hum Emma let out, and the feel of her hand trailing up on his torso to stop next to his heart, startled Killian out of his stupor. Careful not to wake her, he pulled his phone from his jeans' pockets.   
  
_ What was his name again? Felix Scott? No, not Scott. Stewart _ , he thought, struggling to remember the perp's name from the previous evening.   
  
The first things that appeared on the screen after googling him up, were both his Facebook and Twitter profiles. Judging by a few pictures he had posted on Facebook, Killian could tell he was a fan of his. There was an old one of the stage, and part of the crowd in front of it at one of his concerts, then a post saying he was going to buy Killian's last album the day of its release and a photo of his iPod playing on repeat his album 'Neverland' a couple of days later. The thought that a fan of his could hurt Emma made bile rise in his throat. Knowing full well Emma must have analysed his Twitter from top to bottom, looking for clues, he decided to check it out anyway, just in case he'd tweeted something during the night. And in fact he did, telling he was going to a band's gig and adding a few hashtags, band's name included.

_ Well, that's dumb. Either he's stupid or he's confident he'll get away with it once more. _

It didn't took much for Killian to find where and when Felix was going. Just as a plan was taking form in his head, Emma’s breathing hitched and she started to stir. 

* * *

The room was bright. Far too bright to be her bedroom.

Still half asleep, Emma blinked a few times to let her eyes adjust to the light. As her vision became less and less blurry, the image of her tea table filled with plates, an empty pizza box and a couple of cartoons of now melted ice cream, started to take form. 

_ Ugh. Did I really have to fall asleep on the couch? _

Emma moved her head up, her ear getting close to Killian’s cheek. Feeling the stiffness in her neck, she tried (and failed) to suppress a moan from falling out of her lips. 

“What do you say, love? Do I have a future as a pillow?”

That was all it took her to realise she had been hugging Killian like a koala for the whole night. Pain in her neck forgotten, she backed up, her eyes wide with shock. Muttering an apology, she disappeared into the kitchen saying something about making coffee.

Killian let out a sigh and, rubbing his forehead, he followed her. As he entered the kitchen, his nostrils were hit by the sweet coffee aroma that was already filling the air.

“Does pancakes and fruit sound good for you?” she asked, holding the fridge door with her hips, as she balanced a bowl and all the necessary ingredients on her hands, “It’s all I got.”

“Sure. Here, let me help you,” he offered, walking up to her and taking a few things off her hands to put them on the counter, while Emma was pulling out some berries from the fridge. 

“What do you say if I start the pancakes while you chop the fruit?”

“It depends,” she teased him, mixing the berries in a small bowl as she washed them, “Are they going to be edible?”

“During the years I’ve mastered the fine art of making some delicacies for breakfast, you know? Pancakes included,” he pouted, so adorably, that Emma couldn’t help but chuckle a little. 

She had to admit that Killian knew what he was doing. And he seemed pretty fast at it too, considering he was already flipping a second pancake on the pan. 

As the pile of pancakes grew, Emma found it harder and harder to concentrate on chopping the fruit, her eyes darting more often than not on him, staying by the counter, with messy hair and spatula in hand. 

_ Not with a knife in hand, Emma. Bad timing, _ she scolded herself.

While Killian was finishing piling up the last of the pancakes on a plate, Emma put some of the stuff still on the table away, so that they actually could sit down and eat. She took, then, her usual mug from the cupboard, along with an old one for Killian.

“Sugar?” She asked, pouring coffee in both of them. 

“Just two, thanks,” he replied, putting the plate with the pancakes on the table.

Emma grinned childishly at the vision of food, and served herself some. Killian watched her in amusement as she carefully selected the fruit she wanted from the bowl, for then putting a generous amount of syrup on her plate.

“I should have imagined you would drown them in syrup,” he commented, flashing her a grin.

“Shut up,” she laughed, “You already know I have a sweet tooth.”

“That I do, but I didn’t think it would go to that extent.”

Emma side glanced at him, taking a large bite.

“ _ Oh God, _ ” she moaned, “These are  _ so good _ !” 

Killian cleared out his throat at that rather sinful moan, both amused and slightly turned on by her reaction ( _ Calm down, Killian. Remember who she is _ ). Hoping his voice wouldn’t sound too hoarse, he said, “It’s always nice to make an impression,” getting an eye roll from Emma, who, luckily for him, hadn’t noticed a thing.

After that, they didn’t talk much for the rest of their meal, both of them waiting for the caffeine to kick in. It was only when Killian finished his coffee, that he decided to tell her what he had found on Felix.

Taking a deep breath, he started, as he indicated with his head at the computer and papers on the opposite side of the table, “When you were still sleeping, I looked up your man on the internet. The moron tweeted that he’s going to a pub this evening. There’s also going to be a rock band playing, so you could even arrest him without attracting much attention.”

Emma slowly took a sip of her coffee, her eyes wide in surprise. “How did you…?”

“I saw his name on one of the papers when I came here after bandaging your hand.”

“Why?” she asked, sucking in her lips.

“I wanted to help,” he replied, with a matter-of-fact tone, “And I still do.”

Emma sighed, bringing the mug to her lips.

“Listen: we can go together, and when we get there, I sit next to him to distract him while you get closer and arrest him.”

“What? You want me to use you as a bait?” she nearly shouted, carefully putting her mug on the table, “Absolutely not! It’s too dangerous. What if someone else recognises you? What if someone gets pictures of you?”

“Emma, trust me,” he pleaded her, “I’ll make sure no one will be able to tell who I am, and I’ll inform Regina about it so she can mislead the paps. Everything is going to be just fine.”

Emma hesitated for a moment and then, breathing out a sigh, she nodded, “Okay. On one condition though, no matter what happens, you have to promise me you won’t intervene.”

Killian opened his mouth to answer back, but she promptly cut him off, “If he puts on a fight, you won’t lift a finger on him. You’ll do anything you can not to drive people’s attention to you, and for as long we stay in the pub, we don’t know each other.”

Killian just stared at her. He wanted to be able to defend her, in case Felix was going to hurt her again. However, he knew she wasn’t going to accept anything if not her conditions; he was conscious this was the best chance they had to consign him to the police. That way he’d never hurt her again.

“As you wish,” he conceded, fixing his deep blue eyes on her jade ones.

They stayed like that for a few seconds, lost in each other’s eyes until his phone chirped with a message.

“Bloody hell,” he swore, picking up his phone, “That would be Regina. Sorry, love, I have to go.”

“Oh?” She whispered, still stunned by the genuine affection she saw in his eyes, “It’s okay.”

Emma accompanied him at the door but, before she could say goodbye, he asked, “I’m going to pick you up at seven, alright?”

“Yeah. It’s a date,” she agreed, but when she realised what she’d said, her cheeks flushed pink, “I mean, it’s not a  _ date _ …”

“I know what you mean, Swan,” he smiled softly at her, his eyes’ gaze trailing down on her cheek, as if he wanted to kiss her goodbye there.

After blinking a few times, his eyes met hers again and then he flew away, muttering a goodbye.

Emma closed the door and looked at it for while, lost in her thoughts. The corners of her lips twitching up a little before whispering at the air, “Goodbye, Killian.”   


* * *

As promised Killian showed up at her door at seven sharp.

He was wearing a pair of old, shabby jeans, high tops and a batman t-shirt under a red plaid shirt. His hair were tidy and his now green eyes were watching hers under a pair of glasses. 

“You look…” Emma muttered, gaping at him.

“I know,” he grinned smugly, putting the left hand in his pockets, “Shall we go?”

Nodding, Emma took her purse and followed him to his car. During the drive, they mostly stayed in a comfortable silence, listening to the radio and singing along to a few songs. 

They got into the pub only half an hour later. It was a small place, with a long counter next to the door and a few tables along the walls. For being so modest, it was already packed with people waiting for the concert to start.

As the band announced their first song, Emma found a nice spot close to the wall, from which she had a perfect view of the counter. Killian, on the other hand, had already spotted Felix, and sat on a free stool next to him.

Felix didn’t even notice there was now someone sitting next to him, until he heard Killian’s voice when he ordered some rum. 

“You know, you sound like Killian Jones,” he said, slurring his words a little, “Has anyone ever told you you two look alike too?”

He was about to answer, when the barmaid came back with his drink. As Killian thanked her, Felix spoke to her with a flirty tone,.”Hey darling, will you bring me another?”

The woman glared at him as she versed him another drink, and then walked away to serve another customer. 

“She’s pretty, isn’t she? I’m sure she’d be a great in bed.”

Killian gulped down his drink, without saying a word. That man disgusted him, but he was sure he’d get arrested before midnight.

“Can you keep a secret?” Killian asked him, lowering his voice. At Felix’s eager nod, he continued, “You said before I remind you of Killian Jones. Well, you were right. It’s really me. We can take a selfie if you want, but you have to keep quiet. I don’t want to be recognised, you know?”

“Oh my God! Yes of course!”

Felix eyes widened and dropped his hands off the counter to take his phone. 

As soon as he got his hands off the counter, Killian saw Emma from behind Felix shoulder getting closer to him, and reaching for the handcuffs. She moved quickly, but not enough to draw the attention of the other people in the pub. In within moments, she was right behind him and, making the handcuffs click on one of his wrist, she got a hold of the other and pulled it behind his back. Surprised, he turned around, trying to free himself.    
  
When he recognised her, he exclaimed loudly, but not enough to be heard by the other people around over the sound of music, "You bitch!"   
  
Emma's grip on the handcuffs hardened and, putting a hand on his shoulder she gave a strong tug down. All Killian could do was watching the scene, his hands closed into tight fists.   
  
"Now, be quiet," she whispered, bringing her lips next to his ear, "We don't want to make a scene, do we?"    
  
"You'll pay for this," he grunted.   


"I don't think you'll get out of prison soon. And you deserve it, especially after what you did to your family."    
  
"And what do you know about family, lost girl?" He spat, a malicious grin forming on his lips.   


_ That’s it. I’m going to hit him. Emma would understand. _   


As soon as the words left his lips, Killian saw a flash of hurt and fury in Emma's eyes, but her face remained unperturbed. Before he could intervene, her hand moved quickly from his shoulder to grip his hair. Pulling his head behind, she then smashed it on the counter, knocking him out.   
  
"Nothing," she murmured.

If Killian did hear, he didn't comment on it, and she was grateful for that. 

Thanks to the loud music resounding into the room, and the crowd of people dancing to the beat, only a few eyes of the people sitting on the bar stools turned around to look at them, but they were all too far gone already, that they lowered their gaze to their drinks after a moment.

After they escorted him outside and locked him in the car, they didn’t have to wait much for Emma’s contact in the police to arrive. Not wanting to test their luck more than what they already had, and feeling the rush of adrenaline getting low in her blood, she asked Killian to get her home.

That was how she found herself in the elevator of her apartment building with Killian Jones. Because of course he’d insist on accompany her to the door.

“You don’t have to come to your lesson tomorrow,” he said softly, “I can tell how tired you are. Stay at home and get some rest.”

“I’m not tired,” she yawned, as they exited the elevator and walked into the long corridor.

Killian looked at her skeptically with a raised eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe I am,” she admitted, “But I’ve already missed so many lessons…” 

Stopping abruptly at her door, he suggested, “You can come to my house in the afternoon, if you want. This way, you can catch up with the lessons you lost. I have all the necessary equipment at home: mics, speakers, a couple of guitars and even a piano.”

Emma gaped at him and muttered, hesitantly, “I don’t know if I should…”

Killian gave her a weird look she interpreted as ‘Don’t be stupid, Swan’.

“Okay,” she gave in, suppressing another yawn, “You’re lucky I’m too tired to protest.”    

“I’ll let you rest then.”

Killian took her right hand in his and, bringing it closer, he brushed his lips on it, whispering a soft “Goodnight” before going away, sending a shiver down her spine.

With her heart still beating wildly and skin burning where he’d kissed her, she fumbled with the keys to open the door. As she got in, she let it close behind her, stopping for a moment to compose herself. Changing quickly, she then plopped on the bed. She fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, dreaming of a calm sea as blue as Killian’s eyes.   


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is late I'm sorry but life happened. Anyway I hope you like this chapter! It's currently one of my favourites. Huge thanks to Elena, Tessa, Katie, Selina, Haiz and Casey for helping me with the editing and to all the CS Writers' Hub ladies <3   
> Happy Once weekend and see you in a fortnight with another chapter!

Killian had been itching to go home for the whole morning. Luckily for him, he didn’t have much work to do that day. In fact, it was only after the last couple of lessons, some recordings, a short meeting and lunch with the production and the other coaches, that he could hop in his car and finally drive home. 

It was early enough for the streets to be fairly clear, but as he accelerated down the roads butterflies started fluttering in his stomach. Why he was so nervous was a mystery to him. It was just Emma coming over; nothing scary. But she wasn’t  _ just _ Emma anymore. He cared for her, deeply. Maybe too deeply, considering their situation. He couldn’t help it, though. She intrigued him. 

Over the past few weeks he had gotten to know different many different sides of her. She had been fiery and determined to prove how talented she was; she stood up to him, not a bit scared to give him a piece of her mind. She had been forgiving and understanding, but also carefree and a great person to talk to. And yet, that woman was different from the guarded one who had been standing on the threshold of her apartment on Saturday night, but in some aspects she was still the same. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes for the entire evening and she had been more cautious than usual, but something in the way she’d looked at him told him she was grateful he was there with her. Although he didn’t exactly know what happened with Felix, he sure as hell was not going to feel satisfied until he would pay for all the pain he’d inflicted on her.

If at first he hadn’t completely understood why she became so guarded all of a sudden, the way Felix spoke to her and how she dealt with him made him look at everything from a new perspective. She might have closed herself off because of the frustration resulting from not catching him right away - he could understand that - but that poor excuse of a man had hurt her, both physically and emotionally. It was sickening how he seemed to have fun hurting her. In those moments, the urge to punch him had been strong, but as Emma had the pleasure of knocking him out, he couldn’t help but feel proud of her and wonder what her story was. And how could he not wonder after hearing her muffled reply? That hadn’t been the ideal time to ask though, so he just held back his curiosity and accompanied her home. 

He hadn’t put much thought into suggesting that she come to his house for an extra lesson to let her sleep in; he’d sort of blurted it out once they reached her apartment’s door and he was glad she had accepted. And then he’d kissed her hand, only to run away right after muttering a goodnight, too scared of her reaction.

Kissing her had been an instinctive thing to do. She was just so cute, fighting to keep open her heavy eyelids, but still somewhat hyper after Felix’s arrest. He couldn’t help it. He’d actually thought about kissing her on the cheek, not even daring to consider giving her a small peck on those pink lips like he’d dreamed of, but then he’d chickened out and went for her hand instead.    


Now that he thought about it, he noticed that he’d never told her where he lived nor when she could come over. As he waited for his house gate to open, he shot her a brief message before going inside.

* * *

Emma had been curled up on the couch watching reruns of  _ How I Met Your Mother _ for a couple of hours when her phone chirped with a message. Fishing it from under the cushion of the couch where it had fallen, she swiped her thumb across the screen to read Killian’s message.

**K: Hello, love! Are you all rested up? I just got home so you can come over whenever you want.**

Emma read it over and over, tried to think of a possible reply, which was crazy considering, it was just a simple and innocent message. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to go too early since he’d just got home from work, but at the same time, she didn’t want him to wait for her too long.

_ I’m freaking out over nothing, am I? _

Letting out a sigh, she quickly tapped back a reply.

**E: I did, thank you. I’ll be there in a couple of hours if that’s okay with you.**

**K: Of course! Call me when you get here and I’ll let you in.**

After reading the following message with his address, Emma dropped the phone on the sofa and started to get ready to leave. And thank God she didn’t wait to get dressed because she’d been so distracted it took her twice as long as usual. 

Hearing from Killian again made her dream about that kiss from the day before. It had been just a quick peck on her hand, true, but she could still feel her skin burning where his lips had touched it whenever she thought about it. There was a fraction of a moment, the night before, right before he kissed her hand and bolted away, when she thought he was going to properly kiss her. She wouldn’t have minded if he did. Not at all. But it probably was for the best. What if someone found out? He was her  _ coach _ and she was his  _ student _ , for fuck’s sake, she shouldn’t even think about them kissing. And yet she did. 

_ Not thinking about it was definitely easier said than done. _

* * *

She realized she had been hanging out with a famous musician when she reached the gate to Killian’s villa. Well, she knew that before and by his address she knew he lived in one of the most exclusive parts of the city, but as she stood there, waiting for him to pick up the phone and open the gate, it felt  _ real _ for the first time. 

It didn’t take long for Killian to let her in. She followed the lane, looking for a spot to park.

At first, the narrow gravel road was surrounded by trees and bushes full of small, white flowers, but when she took a turn, her mouth dropped open. His house was absolutely gorgeous: it was huge, its dimensions accentuated by the contrast between the dark grey roof and the white walls filled with large windows. Plus the vastness of the garden in front of it. It seemed too big to be the house of a single man, no matter how famous.

Once she parked her car right next to his, she took her purse from the passenger seat and walked up to the front door. As the gravel crackled under her boots, she couldn’t help but wonder why he’d own such a large house since, from what the papers said, his so called relationships always consisted in one night stands-

A light blue spot shimmering in the sunlight on her left behind some plants, and the feeble sound of swishing water, interrupted her train of thoughts. 

_ Of course he has a swimming pool,  _ she thought, walking to stand on her toes to get a better look. Unfortunately, a large tree was blocking the view.

“That would be a swimming pool, love,” Killian stated, leaning on the jamb of the door, arms crossed, an amused smile fixed on his face.

Emma turned around immediately at the sound of his voice.

“I… I was just-” she started, desperately trying to think of something to say as her cheeks turned pink.

“It’s okay, Emma,” he chuckled, and then gestured towards the room behind him. “Do you want to come in?”

Emma covered the last few meters that separated her from Killian and then stopped. 

“Hi,” she muttered, smiling timidly.

“Hi yourself,” he replied, focusing his gaze on her jade eyes. “After you, Swan.”

Her eyes widened at the sight of the living room before her. The room was bright, lightened up by a large French window. The beige painted walls blended well with the light wooden panes and the bookshelf that covered the wall against which the sofa rested, along with the cream white hard wood floor. On the other side of the room, a big television and an electric fireplace were laying on a white painted brick wall, which divided the living room from what looked like the kitchen. It was elegant, with a few designer items here and there. Definitely not what she expected.

“Feel free to put your purse and jacket wherever you want,” he offered, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I can fetch you a drink in the meantime, if you’re thirsty.”

“No, thanks. I'm fine,” she said, putting both purse and red leather jacket on the sofa.

“How about we get started, then?” Killian asked, glancing at the stairs not far behind him.

Emma nodded. She followed him to the second floor and then to a room at the far end of the corridor. 

“Here we are,” he said, holding the door open for her.

When she stepped into the room, Emma had to suppress a gasp,  _ again _ . The room was huge, with large windows which granted a nice view of the garden and the same wood flooring that was used in the rest of the house. That was not what caught her eye, though. It was more the black parlor grand piano at the center of the room, the small collection of both electric and acoustic guitars, and the professional recording microphones and related equipment that did it. 

Noticing the awed and yearning looks she was giving his instruments, he promised he’d let her try some of them after practice. That earned him a bright smile as she trotted to the piano, eager to get on with the lesson. Chuckling at her excitement, he followed her and they soon started with some exercises to warm up their voices. 

Even though she had missed a couple of lessons, and surely had zero practice in the last few days, she still sounded as amazing as ever. She was so brilliant that they mostly had fun - both during the lesson and after - when they started playing and singing together to whatever popped into their minds. Sometimes he would join her at the piano, playing one of his songs with her, and he would sing along softly, their bodies so close she could feel the heat radiating from him and the scent of his cologne; some other times she’d get a guitar and sing with him. 

When they stopped, it wasn’t because the sky outside was getting darker by the minute, but because their throats were starting to hurt from singing and laughing so much. 

* * *

“It’s late,” Killian observed, glancing at the microwave clock as they sipped some water to alleviate the soreness in their throats. “You should stay for dinner. We can cook something and then watch a film, if you want?”

“I don’t know. I should go home.”

“Come on, Swan! It’s Animated Movie Monday, you wouldn’t want to miss it now, would you?” He pouted.

Laughing a little at his adorable pout, she gave in and helped him get dinner ready. Well,  _ helped _ might have been an exaggeration since he was the one cooking. She mostly watched. And thank God for that since, unlike her, he actually was a great chef. 

They ate calmly, he shared some funny anecdotes about fans and concerts, and they discussed which guitar was the best. It was absurd how the domesticity of it didn’t make her skin crawl, but she didn’t put much thought into it. Instead, she just enjoyed the warm feeling she’d recently started getting in her belly just by being in his company.

After having eaten and tidied up the kitchen a little, they plopped down on the sofa, putting a few bottles of beer and a bowl of popcorn on the tea table in front of it. Since it had been Emma who chose the movie last time, Killian browsed on Netflix for a bit before settling on Finding Nemo.

They weren’t even a tiny bit drunk when they started laughing uncontrollably at each other’s impersonations of Dory and getting lost in a never ending series of “ _ Mine _ ”, as they fought for the popcorn. It was silly, but neither of them cared. Eventually, they calmed down and went back to watching the movie as they sipped their beers (not without making comments, though).

“Can I ask you a question?” Killian inquired, only after their second beer.

“Well, you just did,” Emma giggled.

It was only after he gave her one of his  _ Really, Swan? _ looks that she added, “You can ask me another though.”

“What did you mean when you said you didn’t know anything about family last night?”

Emma’s eyes met his as she studied him. Surprisingly, she found herself wanting to tell him the truth. After all he did for her, that was the least she could do. The question was, did she trust him enough? 

_ Yes _ .

“It’s not like I don’t know anything at all about family. I know something, but that something is so little it might as well be nothing,” she started and then took a deep breath, bringing her knees close to her chest. “I was found on the side of the road when I was just a few days old. The Swans took care of me for three years. I don’t remember much of the time I spent with them, but I was happy. However, that only lasted until Mrs. Swan got pregnant. Since their miracle baby was on the way, they didn’t need me anymore, so they sent me back to the orphanage. I wasn’t old enough to understand what was happening, but I definitely was old enough to remember how lost and hurt I felt when they got rid of me like garbage.”

Now that she’d started, she couldn’t stop the words from coming out of her mouth, but she was glad Killian didn’t even attempt to interrupt her and just stayed close to her as he attentively listened.

Gulping a large swig of beer, she continued, “After that I spent years in the foster system, jumping from house to house, until I ended up, twelve years later, in Storybrooke, a small town in Maine. The woman who took me in, Ingrid, had been the first person to treat me as a human being in years. She wasn’t doing it for the money like all the others did, she was actually interested in me. She bought me stuff, cared for my education and, she even took me to the carnival when I got a good mark in math. That day she told me she had filled up the papers for adoption. It was the best day of my life, I was so happy that there was finally someone who cared about me… I cried. Things were great with Ingrid: I had friends, a place to call home and someone who loved me. It didn’t last long, though. A few weeks after I turned eighteen, she died in a car accident. Since then, Mary Margaret, David and Ruby have been the closest thing I have to a family.” 

When Emma finished talking, she shut her eyes tightly and focused her attention on the voice coming from the TV. She tried not to think about what happened after Ingrid’s death, but she couldn’t shake the images of Graham and Neal out of her head. As all the sorrow and betrayal she had buried deep in her heart long ago were starting to resurface, she felt Killian’s thumb softly caressing her cheeks, brushing away the tears she hadn’t noticed were escaping her closed eyelids.  Her eyes snapped open and, as a few more drops fell on her cheeks, she looked up at Killian, his face hazy in the dim light of the room through her unshed tears .

“Emma,” he whispered, moving even closer so that their faces were only a few inches apart, “I’m really sorry that happened to you, and I know you’re not telling me something. That’s okay. I know what it feels like to lose people you love, to not have a family. But love, all these experiences made you who you are now. And you are a wonderful woman. I feel so blessed to have you in my life.”    


Blinking back the tears that were about to fall, Emma slowly covered the hand still resting on her cheek with hers and gently guided it to her lap.

“I’m glad I met you too, Killian,” she said softly as the corners of her lips lifted up in a small smile.

As an answer, Killian smiled brightly at her. And after that, she couldn’t exactly tell what happened.

Maybe it was because of that heartfelt speech and all the emotions that were running high through her body, or that look he was giving her, as if she had hung the moon, but one moment they were holding hands, and the next they weren’t anymore. 

Her hands moved on their own, disentangling from his hold and grabbing the lapels of his shirt, pulling him forward to meet her lips. It only took him a second to get over the initial shock and respond to the kiss, but when he did, it was everything. 

All the worries, all the “I shouldn’t”s and “what if”s were thrown out the window. It was just them, Emma and Killian kissing on the couch. Her heart beating wildly in her chest was the only sound she could hear, the spicy fragrance of his cologne all she could smell. She barely noticed him running his fingers through her golden locks as his mouth slid against hers, sucking gently on her bottom lip and muffling her moan. Their lips moved together in a dance as old as time, each touch of his soft lips sending a shiver down her back. The groan he let out as she breathlessly nibbled his lip made her even more desperate to close the space between them. But, as the need for air was becoming too strong to ignore, Killian kissed the corner of her mouth and rested his forehead against hers, eyes still closed.

“That was…” he gasped, finally opening his eyes, his voice hoarse.

“A one time thing,” she continued with a whisper, their mouths still so close that she could feel his breath on her now tingly lips.

“Don’t follow me,” she added, finally letting go of his shirt and running off from the house, picking up her purse and jacket in the process.

* * *

Not even the loud thud of the front door closing shook Killian out of his frozen state. However, as he heard the sound of tires creaking on the gravel fading in the distance, he followed the outline of his lips with his thumb, living in the memory of how kissing Emma Swan felt.  


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uhm yes, this update is a couple of days late (again), sorry. I’m just such a forgetful potato that I remebered I was supposed to update last minute. Huge thanks to Elena and Tessa, my woderful friends and betas, for helping me with the editing and to all the CS Writers’ Hub ladies. Anyway, happy Once day and I hope you like this chapter!
> 
> (Also yes I’m calling the show, that’s obviously The Voice inspired, Enchanted because…well I don’t think I really have to explain why.)

Emma had been laying in her bed for hours that morning, hoping the headache that had haunted her since she’d woken up would magically fade away. It was only a few minutes past ten in the morning when she finally gave in, clumping in the bathroom to take some meds.

She hadn’t gotten back that late the night before, but sleep eluded her. She couldn’t help it, her mind still racing at sixty miles per hour after the kiss; her lips were still burning at the mere memory. In the end, exhaustion had the best of her, and she fell in a fitful sleep, only to be woken up by her alarm clock far too early.

As the hours ticked by, she had found herself pondering whether to call someone to let it all off of her chest, or to just let it simmer inside of her. Talking about it would have been the best thing to do, but she could only count the number of people she could call on the fingers of one hand.

Were it a similar situation not involving Killian, she would have called Ruby and Mary Margaret. They would have knocked at her door with wine and ice cream, listened to her and tried to give her some advice. Ruby was the kind of friend who would party all night and find someone to go home with to - as she put it - “have some no-strings-attached sex,” but she was also the one always ready to hit the shit out of whoever hurt her friends. Mary Margaret, on the other hand, was the mum-friend, the one in a steady fairytale relationship, always ready to give heartfelt advice and hope speeches.

She couldn't call either one of them, though. Not even David was an option, since he would have gone all protective-big-brother on her. Not to mention, they still were in the dark about what happened between her and Killian during the first weeks, which meant she would have had to explain all of that too, and she just wasn't in the mood. Hell, she didn’t even want to hear Killian’s name, but he was all she could think about.

Emma splashed some cold water on her face and took a look at her reflection on the mirror. Her hair was slipping out of the messy bun she had pulled up the night before, and a set of dark bags under her eyes stood out on her pale skin.

Suddenly, her phone’s ringtone went off.

Breathing out a sigh, she went back into her room. Unplugging her phone from the charger, she sat down in the middle of the bed, legs crossed. After swiping her thumb on the screen, she brought her phone to her ear.

“Hello?”

Elsa's voice crackled out from the phone. “Hey, Emma! Uhmm…”

“Oh, Elsa! How are you?” she asked, surprised by her call.

“I’m fine, what about you?”

“I’m okay,” Emma said as she absentmindedly toyed with the hem of the sheets, her voice small.

“Is everything alright?” Elsa asked, the concern evident in her tone.

“Yes,” Emma replied quickly, but then admitted, massaging her temples with the free hand, “Actually no.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Ehm…” she hesitated. Her friendship with Elsa was pretty new, but she was the only one who knew what happened with Killian. “The thing is... I don’t really want to talk about it but I can’t get it off my mind and I fear things are just going to get worse if I don’t, and I’d fuck it all up. And I really don’t want to fuck it all up but I-”

“Emma,” Elsa interrupted her, “It’s something about Killian, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Emma sighed both in resignation and surprise, “How did you-?”

“Well, you became friends and were it something else that bothered you, you wouldn’t have tried to explain it to me. I know you, Emma, even though we’ve just met, and if I’m right, you still haven’t told your friends about the _disagreement_ you had with Killian weeks ago, so...” she explained, “Anyway, don’t change subject. What did he do this time?”

“He didn’t do anything. He was actually pretty great. It was all me.”

“Why? What did you do?”

“I kissed him,” she confessed.

“ _What!?_ ”

Emma winced at Elsa's screech and grumbled, “You heard me.”

“And why would that be a problem? Did he reject you?”

“No, not at all. The kiss was amazing and he seemed more than fine with it,” Emma admitted, lost in the memories of the previous night, then she flinched at what she was about to say. “But then I freaked out and ran away.”

“Oh Emma...”

“I don’t even know why I kissed him!” she exclaimed after filling Elsa in on everything that happened: the texting, him knocking at her door and helping her arrest Felix, the day she spent at his house. “I didn’t think! He had been so caring and understanding and I just…”

“You like him,” Elsa stated.

“I don’t _like him_ ,” Emma scoffed, “No. No way.”

Elsa hummed, unconvinced.

“Why did you call Elsa?” Emma asked her, trying not to sound annoyed.

“Oh, right. I was wondering if Killian asked you to watch the episode together, too.”

Emma frowned. “Uhm… what episode?”

“Of our show, of course,” Elsa said excitedly, “The first episode airs tonight.”

“Oh!” Emma said as realisation drew on her, “No, he didn't ask.”

“I'll keep an eye on him, then,” Elsa suggested in a tone that wouldn't accept no as an answer. If she was surprised by Emma’s reply, she hid it well.

As Emma opened her mouth to argue, Elsa continued, “Oh my God, it's so late! Sorry, I've gotta go. Talk to you later, okay?”

And with that she ended the call, leaving a dumbfounded Emma staring at a random spot in front of her.

* * *

Emma's fist hit the Nolan’s door making a couple of dull knocks resound in the loft’s hallway.

This was what she had planned for the evening. After Elsa's call, all she had wanted to do that night was get some grilled cheese and onion rings at Granny’s to eat as she watched the episode. On her couch. _Alone_. And now, she was about to have dinner with Mary Margaret, David, and Ruby and then watch the first round of the auditions with them.

“Emma!” David exclaimed as she opened the door and gave her a hug, “Come in. Mary Margaret is in the kitchen with Ruby getting everything ready for dinner.”

Emma didn't even have the time to say hello that both Ruby and Mary Margaret came out from the kitchen, hands full with plates of food.

“You're here!” Mary Margaret shrieked excitedly. Then as she put the plates down, she gestured at the table, “With perfect timing too! Dinner is ready.”

“Oh my God, Mary Margaret,” Emma said, her eyes widening at the sight of the amount of food she prepared, “There's enough food to feed an army.”

Ruby eyed her from across the room.

“What is it?” Emma asked her as she and David approached the table to sit down.

“We never complain about too much food,” she stated, her brows knotted in a frown. “Have you already forgotten?”

“Come on Ruby, give her a break. She’s been busy,” Mary Margaret tried to reason with her.

“I bet she was. I'd have been too with a specimen like Killian Jones as a teacher.”

“Ruby…” Emma groaned, focusing her attention on the nicely chopped vegetables in her plate to cover the blush that was creeping up her cheeks.

“Please, you never tell us anything,” she said, giving Emma the best puppy-eyed face she could master.

Mary Margaret and David exchanged both curious and amused looks at their bickering.

“Probably because there's nothing to tell.”

Ruby hummed, as if she was contemplating her answer and then shook her head. “Nah, I don’t think so.” She then announced, “Come on Emma! Give me something saucy.”

There was no fighting now; her mind was set and there was nothing Emma could say to stop her. All she could do was brace herself for the endless list of questions Ruby surely had ready, and hope Mary Margaret and David wouldn’t join the interrogation that was about to take place with that kind of enthusiasm. It was soon clear though, that nothing could have prepared her for such an assault. The first innocent questions about her teammates, the show and how the first round of performances went (at which she tried multiple times to explain, in vain, she was sworn to secrecy and couldn’t say much) were followed by some classic Ruby questions like “Do you think he’s a boxers or briefs kind of guy?”.

When Ruby’s excitement finally died down by the time they’d finished dinner, Emma spilled out the truth about what happened with Killian during the first week of lessons. David looked like he wanted nothing more but to punch him, Ruby was just shocked and Mary Margaret’s expression was the one of someone who has finally figured out the rebus that had been Emma’s behaviour during those days. It took her a while to explain them (and David in particular) that it had all been water under the bridge since the day he apologised.

“So is everything alright between you two?” David asked, still unconvinced by Emma’s reassurances.

“Yeah, we are friends now,” she said, the corner of her mouth curving up in a sad smile.

Noticing how her friends looked like they were all about to resume the interrogation carried at dinner, Emma looked at the watch on her wrist and gasped, hoping they would take the hint and drop the subject, “Look at that! Enchanted is about to start.”

After exchanging a confused look, the three followed Emma and sat next to her on the couch.

As soon as David hit the switch on button on the controller, Killian’s face appeared on the screen and his voice came out from the speakers. Emma only half listened to what he was saying, his deep, comforting voice bringing back the memories she had tried for the whole day to bury in a far away corner of her brain. The moments in his music room, cooking dinner, the movie, the kiss. It all passed in front of her eyes again and again, as she tried desperately build up an unperturbed mask.  

What she didn’t notice though, was the weird look Mary Margaret was giving her.

* * *

Killian was having a hard time concentrating.

He was sitting with Elsa on the red couch in one of the waiting rooms backstage, his eyes fixated on the screen of the television in front of him, but not really able to see it. His mind was just somewhere else. And somewhen else. More precisely his living room, the night before. The memories from the previous night hunting him since the moment the door closed behind Emma’s back and he heard the tires of her car creaking on the gravelled path.

But Elsa was there, waiting to hear some kind of advice to improve her performing and singing skills, so he still tried to discuss with her about every single audition.

What he didn’t notice though, was the knowing look on Elsa’s face whenever he spaced out.

* * *

The next few days passed uneventfully for Emma. Home, work, and then home again; that was the drill. No one unnecessarily bothered her, which allowed her to have a much deserved break. Her phone stayed silent for most of the time, except for when she got some random emails and a solitary message from Elsa saying Killian had been weird the night they watched the show. Not even Killian texted her, which was weird (or maybe it wasn’t considering how Monday night ended).

_It’s not like I care. Because I don’t. Nope. Not at all._ (But that was just a lie, as her sixth sense was uselessly screaming that at her).

When the day of the rehearsals finally arrived, she was so nervous at the prospect of seeing him again that she could feel butterflies fluttering in her stomach (and yes that was nervousness, not excitement). He wasn’t there when she got on stage, though. In fact, aside from the crew, the only person there, except her of course, was a tall, skinny boy, who was getting ready to leave after his rehearsal.

Suddenly, he turned around and, as soon as he saw her, he run up to her, holding a small folder against his chest.

“You must be Emma,” he said with a crooked smile on his lips, “I’m Peter.”

_Ah. That’s why he looked familiar_ , she thought.

Peter Woods was one of her teammates and also the guy in a tux who was playing with a Rubik’s cube as he waited, like Emma, for his audition. She had never talked to him, but that didn’t count much since she only knew Elsa.

“Yeah that would be me. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he replied, grin still stamped on his face, and then continued lowering his voice so that only Emma could hear, “You know I’m really looking forward to tomorrow. It’ll be nice to give a lesson to a lost girl…”    

And with that he walked away, leaving a stunned Emma behind.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s show time on Serendipitous Melody this week, are you excited? If you are, I hope you like this chapter and if you don’t...well, I hope you’ll like it anyway :). Huge thanks to Tessa and Elena, my woderful friends and betas, for helping me with the editing and to all the CS Writers’ Hub ladies.  
> Songs in this chapter are: "Animals" by Maroon 5 and "Paradise" by Coldplay.

Killian was going to see Emma for the first time after that amazing kiss that morning, but he wasn’t nervous. Nope, not at all. Or that was what he had been telling himself. Yes because, he’d actually been tense from the time he got to work, legs going all jittery from time to time, and eyes looking down at the watch on his wrist every few minutes.

His hopes to have some kind of interaction with her right after Peter’s rehearsal got crushed when the chief sound technician asked to have a word with him about some adjustments they had to make for the following day. It took him so long, that he barely had the time to sit cross legged on the stage’s floor as the beats of Coldplay’s “Paradise” were resounding already from the speakers.

When he chose to pair her up against Peter he was sure she could beat him easily, however, considering his determination and the progress he’d made in the last couple of weeks, Killian wasn’t so sure anymore. And from the look on Emma’s face, things were starting to take a bad turn for her. She seemed weirdly distant, more out of sorts than what he had expected. He had figured there’d have been a bit of awkwardness, but not _this_. She made mistakes she had never made before: she missed her cue, forgot the lyrics a couple of times, and even repeated the refrain when she wasn’t supposed to. And then, as soon as the time was up, she flew away barely saying goodbye.

Saying he was worried was an understatement. But the problem was that no matter how badly he wanted to take her afflictions away, he didn’t know from where he could possibly start.

*    *    *

When Emma got back home, she let her body fall on the couch, her eyes roaming the ceiling. How she managed not to crash her car on the way home was a mystery to her, shaken as she still was by Peter’s words.

_How could he know?_

In a matter of days two people, who shouldn’t have known anything about her and her past, deliberately mentioned it. It couldn’t be just a coincidence. After all, Killian didn’t look surprised when she told him about her childhood. Perhaps Peter could read her as easily as Killian could?

No, that couldn’t be it. Peter must have found it out somehow. Killian and she had a connection that was something rare, she couldn’t deny it.

Putting her face in her hands she let out a long sigh. She could think about how Peter could have possibly gotten that information for as long as she wished, but it was unlikely she’d find an answer. She could stress herself out to exhaustion and risk letting him win, or she could put all those feelings in a box to be stored in a corner of her mind and fight, give everything she had on that stage the following day.

The second option was by far the best she had.

*    *    *

Emma played nervously with her nails as she watched Peter start to sing from one of the stage doors. The music was loud there, making her heart beat so fast she could feel it trying to escape from her chest.

He was good, really good. Which might be a problem for her, but as soon as he reached the refrain, that became the last of her problems. Yes, because that's when he subtly started directing glances at her general direction whenever he sung a specific verse.

_Maybe you think that you can hide_

_I can smell your scent from miles…_

A shiver run down her spine. Was he implying that he had been following her? And if he did, why would he do that? They talked _once_! He didn't know her.

She didn't have much time to think about what he could possibly want from her that it was the time for her to go on stage. As Peter walked backstage from one of the opposite doors, Emma took a deep breath, passed her hands on her gorgeous red chiffon dress to brush away some barely existing wrinkles and tucked a rebellious lock of hair inside the messy side braid resting on her shoulder.

Slowly, she followed a path of small white lights to the dimly lit stage, which in the meantime had been covered with smoke. A single microphone on its stand was waiting for her, emerging from the white puffs of air that hid her heels from everybody's eyes. It was like she was walking on a cloud, a big, puffy white one, the kind of clouds you would see floating in the sky on a sunny day of spring.

As she approached the centre of the stage, her gaze lowered to Killian’s cerulean eyes, which color was enhanced by the contrast between the darkness surrounding the room and the rays of bright white light coming from the spotlights. She had been so lost in the blues of his eyes, that she barely noticed the reassuring nod he gave her as a soft encouraging smile spread on his face. As the corners of her mouth curved up in a small smile in return, Emma closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, trying to clear her mind and concentrate.

When the first notes of “Paradise” resounded in her in-ear monitors, Emma kept her eyes closed, patiently waiting for her cue. She thought of her childhood; the memories of a time when the only person she could count on was herself. When no one was there to give her an hug after a long stressful day, no one who loved her. No one who would be there after she made a mistake, no one who would help her fight her battles, no one willing to protect a child from the bullies, no one who _cared_ . She forgot about everything that had been bothering her before, and she started to sing. 

_When she was just a girl she expected the world_

_But it flew away from her reach and the bullets catch in her teeth_

_Life goes on, it gets so heavy_

_The wheel breaks the butterfly every tear a waterfall_

_In the night the stormy night she'll close her eyes_

_In the night the stormy night away she'd fly_

She let herself go, all the heartache, the loneliness, the pain from those days pouring out from her lips, permeating the words she was singing. She didn’t care about the audience, the cameras or the coaches. Nor did she realise the effect her interpretation was having on the people around her. Her soft, silvery voice tugged everyone’s heartstrings, lulling their souls with a beautiful melancholy.

It was only when her last vocalisation echoed in the room that she opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was Killian, grinning proudly at her and eyes misty, then her eyes focused on Ariel, who was brushing away the tears that had fallen on her cheeks. The cheering of the public was deafening and, as she brought the mic to her lips to mutter a “thank you,” she couldn't help her cheeks from turning bright pink. 

As the audience quieted down, Emma caught a glimpse of Belle walking up to her from backstage, followed by a sour-faced Peter.

“Well,” Belle started, stopping next to Emma at the center of the stage. “That was a great start! Congratulation to you both. Now that there are only sixteen of you left, going further into the competition is getting harder for you, but you’re not the only ones under pressure. In fact, tonight, the burden of choosing who will win a ticket for the Semifinals of Enchanted and who will have to leave the show, rests on the shoulders off all four coaches.”

The theater became oddly quiet as Belle gave her speech. The cloud of tension that fell on the studio grew thicker when, seconds later, the screen covering the wall at the back of the stage lit up, showing both Peter and Emma’s names written over two big zeros. At the sight of it on a hidden monitor placed over the judges chairs, Emma’s stomach tied in a knot for the nerves.

“Let’s start from one of the ladies. Tink. What did you think of Peter and Emma’s performances and to whom your vote goes to.”

Tink sit up on her chair, and after thinking for a couple of seconds about what to say, she started, “I loved both your performances, even though they were completely different. Peter, I appreciated the energy you put into your performance; it was clear that you are in your natural element when onstage. As for you Emma, you were absolutely amazing. In my opinion, what distinguishes a real artist from everyone else is their ability to externalise their emotions through their music, building a deep emotional connection with the audience. That’s what you did tonight Emma, and for this reason my vote goes to you.”

There was an eruption of cheers and a few boos, as a silver one papered on the screen under Emma’s name with a _pling_. Emma bit her lip in embarrassment, trying - in vain - to hold back a grin from spreading on her lips. Then, holding the microphone up with slightly shaky hands, she muttered a barely audible “thank you” right before Belle handed it over to Robin.

“Even though I loved Emma’s performance, my vote goes to Peter.”

As soon as the words left his lips a roar of boos came from from the majority of the audience. Robin put a finger on his mouth asking them to quiet down.

“Both their performances were flawless, but I think that a singer also needs to be a bit of a showman. You know, dancing around, interacting with the people around them. You still have to work on that Emma, but you don't Peter. That's the reason behind my decision.”

While the score changed again on the screen in the background, a few whistles of disappointment could be heard among the fake cheers.

“I guess it’s my turn now,” Ariel observed once the hoots died down, and then spoke directly at Emma, “I think you noticed the tears on my face earlier. Your interpretation was so unique and beautiful, and that’s because you poured your soul in those lyrics. So my vote goes to you, Emma.”

“Wonderful! That’s two votes for Emma and one for Peter,” Belle announced as another round of applause rose from the audience, “Anything can still happen though, as Killian’s vote will count double, since he’s been the one to guide both Peter and Emma on this journey. Killian, it’s up to you now.”

“Seems like it is, yeah,” Killian acknowledged, for then falling quiet as he looked for the right words to say, “This is extremely hard because you both deserve to get to the semifinals. Alas, only one of you can. You would think that being their coach, I already know how good their performance will be. And most of the times you’d be right, but not always. There are always exceptions, you see; and among these exceptions the ones which leave me positively surprised are always the rarest. Tonight one of those exceptions, who surprised me not only once, but thrice, is standing right in front of me. And it’s for this reason that my vote goes to Emma Swan.”

Emma couldn’t believe his words. She was so stunned that she barely registered Belle complimenting her and the loud whoops of the audience. She did it. _Again_ . She never thought she would come so far in this competitions, but here she was, the first semifinalist of Enchanted. And Killian, he looked so _proud_ , somehow.

Noticing a crew member gesturing her to get backstage, Emma came out for her stupor. She thanked both the judges and the audience, and the headed towards the door, not after giving an apologetic smile to Peter for the cameras.

    *    *    *

The shootings had just ended, when Emma walked in front of the coaches changing rooms on her way to the exit.

It wasn’t that it had taken her more time than usual to change back into her clothes, on the contrary, she had been quite happy to get off those ridiculously high heels and put back on her boots. It was just that, after she saw Peter leaving the studios rather quickly, she had decided to stay and watch Elsa’s performance, which of course was the last one of the day. It was going to be a nice distraction from everything that had happened to her lately. Were she alone at home, her mind would have probably wondered in places that were less than welcome at the moment. Like Peter words, Felix’ case, Killian and that amazing kiss from a couple of nights before. However, right after she’d shared a celebratory hug with Elsa, who also won against Leroy, exhaustion started to settle in her bones. Cutting the conversation with a more than excited Elsa short, Emma grabbed her purse and left waving her friend goodbye.

As soon as Emma took a turn at the end of the corridor, her body collided against something solid, but at the same time soft, covered with black cotton.

“Sorry, lass.”

At the sound of Killian’s voice her head snapped up in surprise.

_God, this is going to be so awkward._

“Oh, ehm, hi,” she breathed out as their eyes met, and then continued, tucking her head down in embarrassment, “It’s okay. I’m sorry too, I wasn’t really looking were I was going.”

“Swan? Are you alright?” Killian said, looking at her as if he were trying to read the answer in her eyes.

“I am,” she replied, brushing him off, and eyed the door at behind him, ready to run, “I’m just tired.”

Killian rose his left eyebrow skeptically, and then he reached down for her hand to stop her for going away. 

“Hey,” he said softly, “I know something is off. You can tell me, if you want.”

“I…” Emma hesitated, biting her lip as she thought of what to do. She was almost ready to free herself from his hold and leave, when the words came out from her mouth as if they had a life of their own, “I talked with Peter yesterday before my rehearsal...We had never met before and somehow he knew I’m an orphan. And then as he sung earlier, he kept glancing at me during the refrain as if _I_ were the _prey_ to _hunt down_. He called me Lost Girl like Felix did at the pub, Killian. I just don’t know what to think.”

Killian’s eyes widened a touch at the revelation. He looked like he’d just got revealed the key answer to solve a complicated puzzle, and in some way he had.

Suddenly, he tugged at her hand and pulled her body to his, embracing her in a hug.

Shocked by the gesture, Emma let him hold her. She rested her head on his solid chest and breathed him in. As he started drawing small circles on her waist, he rested his chin on top of her head and whispered softly her name and “everything will be alright”s.

They stayed in each other’s arms for what seemed like hours, until the sound of a door slamming open and the ticking of someone’s heels on the floor, made them jump apart.

“Jones.”

Killian moved a touch on the right making her see the woman who had just spoke. She definitely looked like a businesswoman with that black sheath and serious attire.

“Regina, what are you doing here?” Killian asked the woman, moving a little closer to Emma as if to protect her.

“I had a meeting with the production,” she explained matter-of-factly, and then continued, giving Emma a disdainful look, “I was coming to get you so we could talk on the way home, but I see you’re otherwise occupied. Come to my office at ten sharp on monday morning, Killian. It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Swan.”

And with that she left.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves* Hello! I’m back just in time for Easter break. I’m so excited to post this chapter it’s one of my favourites so far and Clare is to blame for everything that happens in it. So, this chapter is for you, dear <3\. Huge thanks to Tessa and Elena, my woderful friends and betas, for helping me with the editing and to all the CS Writers’ Hub ladies.

It was exactly ten in the morning when Killian knocked at the door of Regina’s office on Monday; not a minute earlier, not a minute late, which was quite odd for him, considering his standards. It wasn’t like it was his fault though. Regina seemed to love scheduling appointments for him early in the morning, just to make him wake up early after his too frequent nights where he drank way too much alcohol ( _ Okay maybe it was partly my fault _ ). However, Emma had been a soothing presence during the last few weeks. He couldn't pinpoint what exactly had made her just what he needed to leave his old heartache behind him, among with an untouched pile of rum bottles in a cabinet in his kitchen. She was just special.

When he didn’t get any answer, he turned to face Sidney Glass, Regina’s secretary, who just nodded gesturing him to get in. As soon as Killian pushed the door open, Regina’s voice entered his ears.

“Henry,” she sighed, “Having a no school day doesn’t mean you can spend it all playing Xbox.”

Killian smiled at that and took a seat on one of the chairs in front of Regina’s desk. She held up her finger as if to say ‘just give me a minute, Jones’.

“I know it’s a cool game but you still have to do your homework,” she reproached him, and then continued after Killian heard Henry mumbling a defeated ‘okay mom’. 

“Good. I have to go now, Killian’s here. Love you Henry, see you at lunch.”

“Good morning Regina,” Killian said as she put the phone down. “How’s the lad?”

“He’s good. Told me that you should come over soon to play Diablo 3 with him,” she sighed, “Why you thought giving him a new video game for his birthday was a good idea, I’ll never know. Playing that thing is all he does these days.”

“I’m sorry,” Killian chuckled, his voice inflecting a little, making his apology sound like a question.

“Anyway,” Regina said giving him a dirty look, “I was at the studios on Sunday because, apparently, you are so good that the producers wanted to discuss your future on the show.”

“Regina,” he started, taking a deep breath. “I’m having fun working on this, but I’m not sure if I want to do a second season. I miss having the time to write music and honestly, a lot could happen in a year or so. For all I know I could end up being in the middle of a new album release, or planning to leave music to sail around the world.”

Regina hummed in agreement. “Well, I hope you aren’t thinking on giving up on your career so soon, but don’t worry you still have time to decide what to do.”

“Is there anything you else wanted to talk to me about?”

Regina stared at him for what seemed like a full minute and then said, giving him one of hers icy looks, joining her hands over the desk, “Jones, What is going on between you and Miss Swan?”

“Nothing,” he replied quickly and then, when Regina arched her brows unconvinced, he asked, disgruntled, “Is that all?”

“Yes,” she said, intrigued by his reaction.

“Well then. In that case, have a good day, Regina,” he muttered, trying not to let the irritation at her prying show in his voice as he stood up to leave.

“Killian,” Regina called him before he would go, “Please, be careful. We don’t want another scandal.”

Killian’s grip on the door handle hardened at her words and said, after taking a deep breath, facing the white painted wood of the door, “I know that.”

“Killian please,” she whispered softly. “I just don’t want you to get played again.”

“Don’t worry. Emma is not Milah,” he stated, finally making eye contact with Regina before opening the door and storming away.

* * *

Emma dropped the keys of her apartment somewhere on the tea table with a sigh as her apartment's door closed behind her, and walked into the kitchen. After taking a carton of ice cream from the fridge and a spoon, she went back into the living room and let her body fall on the couch.

She had spent the morning tracking down and chasing a perp downtown, and that had been enough of a distraction to get her mind off from Peter, Felix and especially Killian. It wasn’t like finding the guy had been a challenge, but it was something she had to concentrate on. And concentrating meant trying not to think about Killian’s soft lips on hers, of his hugs, that always made her feel so warm and fuzzy inside, or his-

“No,” she scolded herself, “No, no, no, no, no.”

Stretching her arms, she snatched the remote from the table. She put on an old episode of Scrubs, readying herself to drown her worries and thoughts in ice cream, funny tv shows and maybe some alcohol later on. She was two episodes and a quarter of carton in when her phone chirped with a message.

A message from Killian.

She just stared at her phone considering whether she should read it or not, her thumb lingering on the screen, ready to digit the pin to unlock it, spoon now forgotten in the box of ice cream. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and viewed the message. It was a picture of a black and orange guitar laying on the white circle settee in his music room. Why did he send her that? It was a beautiful guitar, she had to give him that, but he just sent her the picture without saying anything at all. Confused, Emma just typed a couple of question marks and hit send. 

It only took a few seconds for him to call her. Sighing, Emma swiped her thumb on the screen and as soon as she did that, Killian’s voice came from the speaker.

“Hello, Swan. Have you seen my baby?”

“Your baby?” she repeated, breathing out a laugh.

“Yeah,” he said sheepishly, “Would you like to come over and try it? I remember how you looked at the other guitars last time.”

“I…” she hesitated, “I don’t know if it’s a good idea, I-”

“Emma?” he interrupted her, “I know the stuff that happened last week is bothering you more than you let me and everyone else see. But a nice evening with a friend, testing out his brand new guitar and maybe eating chinese while watching a movie could be a good distraction from everything that is going through your mind.”

Emma considered his words for a moment. A part of her wanted to say no and stay home as she had planned, but deep down she realised that wouldn’t have helped her forget, not at all. She needed a friend and Killian was currently the best she had, even though spending the evening with him might make the weird feelings she had started to feel about him, come back to the surface. She couldn’t avoid him for long, though. He was still her coach. They were still supposed to work together. Facing him in private by spending the evening with him was something she could totally do. Spending time alone with him after the kiss that happened last week shouldn’t be a problem, after all ( _ Yeah, I don’t have feelings for him, so why would it be? _ )    


“Okay,” she agreed. “See you in an hour.”

* * *     


The sun was about to set when Emma’s yellow beetle came to a stop in front of the gate. She didn’t even have to call him or get off the car to ring the intercom because the gates opened, as if thanks to some kind of magical ability. He knew she had arrived ( _ or he simply saw me through the security cameras. Really, Emma, magical abilities?! _ ).

As the tires of her car screeched on the gravelled path, she took a few deep breaths to calm her nerves. Fortunately, the soft orangey light and the way it hit the flowers and the trees had a calming effect on her. Her heart rate began to slow down.

It wasn’t much later that she parked her car in front of his garage. She didn’t notice Killian walking up to her and opening the door as she was busy trying to pick up her purse which had fallen from the seat.

“Good evening, Swan!”

Emma jumped on her seat and hit her knee on the steering wheel for the shock. 

“Killian!” she groaned, rubbing her knee, as he snickered like a child whose prank went as planned. “Don’t do that ever again!” 

“I was only trying to be a gentleman!” he excused himself with a huge grin, as he helped her out of the car.

“Of course you were,” Emma acknowledged, rolling her eyes as she tried to suppress a smile from curving up her lips.

As soon as the door of Killian’s house closed behind them blocking the chilly wind to enter in the warm and cozy living room, barely lit only by a fancy reading lamp over the corner of the sofa and the electric fire in front of it. 

“Does Chinese sound good to you? If you want we can have something else for dinner. Chinese was just the first thing I thought of,” Killian told her, phone already in hand to place their order. Emma tossed her purse and red leather jacket on the sofa. 

“Yeah, sure,” she nodded.

As Killian was on the phone, she seized upon the quiet moment to snoop around a bit. His house was as ridiculously tidy as she remembered, so tidy that she felt the tips of her ears burn in embarrassment at the thought of in what state her apartment had looked like the day he had knocked at the door bearing pizza. In the few weeks she had known him, she had realised how much his famous singer persona was different from his true self. Had someone asked her a month ago how she imagined Killian Jones being when off stage or out of the spotlight, she’d have never pictured him as the shy, dorky, sweet neatfreak he actually was. Deep in her thoughts, Emma passed a hand over the covers of the books in the small library next to the sofa, as her mind got lost in the soft hum of his voice.      


“Don’t forget egg rolls!” She reminded him as soon as she realised he won’t be at the phone for much longer.

“Of course I didn’t, love,” he winked at her, closing the call, “No chinese take out dinner can be called as such without the right amount of egg rolls.”

“Good,” she smiled softly in amusement, “Now how about you be the proud parent you are and show me  _ your baby _ ?”

Killian laughed out loud at that and then gestured her to go upstairs, wiggling his eyebrows seductively, “After you, love.”

“No way,” Emma began, crossing her arms over her chest, for Killian’s joy, “You only say that because you want to ogle my ass. You go first.”

“And what tells me  _ you _ won’t be the one ogling  _ my  _ arse?” 

“You wish buddy,” Emma snorted, lifting her eyebrows in provocation.

“Fine,” he consented, pouting adorably as he started climbing the stairs followed by her, “You are not fun Swan.”

_ Well you have to admit he has a nice ass, Emma _ , she thought. 

As if he sensed her gaze burning its way through his jeans, as soon as he put food on the last step he turned around to flash her a knowing smirk and wink at her. Feeling a blush creeping up her cheeks, Emma grinned back and rushed into the music room, excited at the prospect of seeing his new guitar and embarrassed that he caught her.

When she entered the room, the guitar was still where he’d put it to take the picture he sent her. Slowly, she sat next to it and let her fingers hover on the wood, following its curves, almost afraid to touch it. 

“You can play it if you want,” Killian nodded encouragingly at her, sitting on the opposite side of the settee and smiling softly as he noticed her eyes shining in awe. 

“I...I don’t know what to play,” she confessed, carefully picking the guitar up and balancing it on her hip.

“Whatever you wish to play, love.”

Biting her lip, Emma plucked experimentally on the strings and then started playing the first thing that came in her mind, not even noticing that was actually one of Killian’s songs. The harmonies echoed in the room, as her hands worked on the chords with ease, as if it was just yesterday that she had played a guitar like that and not years. 

“I think I’m in love,” Killian murmured, as he watched her in entrancement. “She’s magnificent.”

Thankful for her hair covering her reddening cheeks, Emma asked, her heart beating faster at his words, “She?”

“Yes, she. Why, Swan, are you jealous, now?” He said, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

“Of course not,” she replied in a whisper, more to convince herself than him.

They stayed there for a while, sitting next to each other, (not so) patiently waiting for the food to arrive. After a little, Killian had moved to sit behind her so that he could give her some advice on her technique. His chin had come to a rest on her shoulder, his hands covering hers to show her some tricks, his breath tickling her ear, lips so close he could easily stamp a kiss on her neck. It needn’t be said that she could barely concentrate that way, but nothing in her bones screamed her to run, to put some space between them. She was at ease, his presence bringing her comfort like a warm blanket on a chilly rainy day. That was what scared her though, how easy it was for him to make her feel safe and at home.

When the food finally arrived, they rushed at the door, Killian almost tripping whilst running down the stairs in an attempt to get there first. 

Once payed and tipped the delivery guy, Emma helped Killian bring the bags in the kitchen and then, after a little convincing she left him there getting everything ready for them to eat in front of the tv, to go pick a movie to watch. 

“Next time you pick the movie okay?” she said helping him set the boxes on the table.

“Does that mean there will be a next time?”

“Maybe,” she laughed as she handed him a box of dumplings, after sitting down and pressing play on the recorder.

“Ooh Tangled!” Killian exclaimed in a high pitched voice that made Emma giggle, “Shall we sing along, my lady?”

Time flew by between Killian singing along every single song, Emma’s snarky and ridiculous commentary and them both trying not to choke on both food and their drinks. All the worries Emma had when he’d asked her to come over were now forgotten, as she let herself truly enjoy being in Killian’s company. It didn’t take long for the movie to end, but it was still pretty early and neither of them wanted to call it a night. After doing some much needed clean up and putting in the fridge all the leftovers, (because of course he ordered enough food to feed an army since “I didn't know what you liked, Swan, so I took a little bit of everything.”) they plopped down on the sofa again as Killian picked another movie.

“Are you serious?” Emma looked at him with wide eyes, trying not to laugh.

“It fear I don't understand, love.”

“Anastasia,” she said slowly, articulating every sound, “Among all the films you could choose, you picked Anastasia?”

“So? It's a classic.”

“Okay, let me get this straight. You actually picked it because you like it and not because  _ I _ might like it?”

“Yes,” he said, making it sound like a question.

“Do you know all the songs of this one too?” 

“Of course I do, Swan. I'm a professional, after all,” he confirmed proudly.

“And I bet you waltz to ‘Once Upon a December’ too,” she teased him, laughing, “Am I going to witness a rare example of  _ dancing Killy _ ?”

“You are so mean, Swan,” he said, his voice low and eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Is that so?” She asked, fluttering her eyelashes in innocence.

“Aye,” he whispered darkly with an amused smile on his lips. 

And that was her only warning. With a leap, he tackled her down, her hair spreading in a golden halo on the beige couch. His hands found her hips and he started tickling her mercilessly.

“ _ No! Please _ ,” Emma shrieked, laughing uncontrollably, “Please stop!”

“Not until you apologise,” he moved his right hand up to tickle her under her neck, grinning.

“Killian!” she whimpered, as she struggled to breathe while tears of laughter streamed down her cheeks, “I- I’m-”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry!” Emma screamed in defeat.

As soon as the words left her lips, Killian stopped his attack. Emma, seizing the moment to seek revenge, swiftly sat up and pinned him down. As a surprised gasp left his lips, Emma carried out her tickling assault, her body flushed on top of his. However, her plan to make him beg her to stop as she previously had to, failed miserably when her lungs started burning, desperately in need for air after all the laughing. They stayed like that, panting, with huge grins on their faces. It seemed like their eyes weren’t going to look away from one another anytime soon, emerald meeting blue or, what was left of the blue in Killian’s darkened eyes. Emma’s gaze lingered on his mouth, when looking at him became just too much. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to kiss him badly, but she  _ couldn’t _ , not again. She didn’t do relationships  _ at all _ , never mind with her coach, a world wide known singer. They could get caught and get in so much trouble ( _ am I seriously considering having a relationship with Killian? What is wrong with me?! _ ). One kiss had been enough ( _ or has it? _ ). 

“We should watch the movie,” Emma murmured, lifting her body off his and offering him a hand to help him sit up, which he took with a nod.

Stretching out his legs on the chaise, Killian put his arm around her and pulled her close. Emma let him and she rested her head on his chest, snuggling closer, the soft thuds of their hearts on each others’ skin and the music coming from the television lulling them both to sleep.

* * *    


It was the roar of thunder of an oncoming storm that woke her up. Well, perhaps  _ waking up _ was strong expression. She was just too comfy and sleepy to open her eyes. After all this was her day off, she could be lazy and stay in bed for as much as she wanted. Or maybe not, because she wasn’t in her bed. Her pillow smelled of Killian, all spicy and comforting, and something resembling an heart beating resounded in her ears. Now that she noticed, what she thought was her pillow was moving slowly up and down, but its rhythm was evening out. 

When another thunder made the window panes tremble, Emma jumped away, a blush already coloring her cheeks as she realised that she had indeed fallen asleep on Killian and cuddled him for the whole night.  _ Again _ . 

“Good morning,” he said sleepily, suppressing a yawn and passing a hand through his hair.

“Hi,” she replied sheepishly, standing up and quickly grabbing her things, “I...I really- I had fun. I really did, but I shouldn’t have- I should just go home now.”

Putting on her red leather jacket, Emma stormed out of the house, not noticing it was pouring rain outside. However, she kept marching towards her car, not caring either for the rain nor Killian calling her name over and over.

“Emma! Emma stop!” Killian called after her, finally managing to catch her hand to stop her, making her turn around.

“What?”

“Listen, I know things have been awkward between us since that kiss, but I don’t regret it. I get that you are scared, bloody hell, I am too, and I know I shouldn’t because of the show and all of what that entails, but, if you are willing, I would like to give us a chance,” he said, gently lifting her chin with a finger to meet her bright green eyes, “to be friends, at least.”

Emma just stared at him as the rain fell on them, his shirt soaking wet by now, as her clothes, that were dampening by the minute. Her hair was sticking on her face and God, she must have looked ridiculous, but there was so much emotion in his eyes and he was looking at her like she was the best thing that happened in his life and his hair looked  _ so good _ and- this was crazy. This was absolutely crazy, but she wanted all of that too. 

_ And possibly even more _ , a small voice in her head whispered. 

“I know that my hair look sinfully good when wet, but please, say something?” He asked in an attempt to brighten the mood, as he scratched the back of his neck, in what she recognised as that adorable nervous tick of his. 

“Okay.”

At that, Killian smiled softly and taking her hand, he gave it a gentle tug, to accompany her back inside and warm up, but then he stopped when he felt Emma squeezing his hand to catch his attention.

“Killian?” she stammered, her teeth chattering for the cold, “I care for you too. I really do.”

Grinning, Killian brought her closer to him swiftly, putting an arm around her. His hand rested softly on her side and, after leaving a kiss on the top of her head, they walked together back inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Killian’s new guitar is a 1972 Fender Telecaster Custom.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I’m actually updating on time, what is this sorcery? Anyway, I am still working on chapter 12. The muse has been pretty rude lately and uni is keeping me busy. Like a lot. If I don’t hit the athor’s block wall for the umpteenth time, I’ll probably manage to post it in two weeks, but after that I can’t guarantee updates every fortnight. I’m a very slow writer sorry. I hope you’ll stick with me. As always, huge thanks to Tessa and Elena, my woderful friends and betas, for helping me with the editing and to all the CS Writers’ Hub ladies.

As soon as they got back inside, Emma started shivering from the cold, while two matching puddles of water were forming at her and Killian’s feet. 

“Why don’t you go take a shower?” he asked, noticing how tightly she was holding her jacket to her body in an attempt to warm up a bit, “I’ll find you something to wear while your clothes dry up.”

“There’s no need. I’ll be fine,” Emma shrugged him off, even though the trembling of her body betrayed her.

“I insist. You’ll just get a cold if you don’t warm up.” 

“What about you?” She followed him upstairs to the bathroom, their shoes squeaking on the floor.

“No need to worry, Swan. I’ll just change into something warm,” Killian reassured her, stopping in front of the bathroom, “I’ll leave you to it then.” 

After muttering a thank you, Emma watched him walk in what she supposed was his bedroom for a few seconds, before going in the bathroom and closing the door behind her. She was too cold to care about what it looked like, but she couldn’t help notice how big the room was. Two large glass walls illuminated the room, both next to the shower which was situated in between them in front of the sink and a large mirror. A bathtub was placed in an alcove on the left. Emma quickly stripped off her wet clothes and placed them on the bathtub, neatly enough so that they wouldn’t wrinkle.

Not being able to resist the comfort of heat much longer, she stepped inside the shower.  Stifling a moan, she let the warm water fall on the top of her head. After enjoying the effect the water was having on her warming skin, Emma quickly washed her hair and body using a couple of bottles of soap she found in the shower. She futilely tried very hard not to think much about how weirdly soothing the scent of his shampoo was. Not wanting to make Killian wait for too long, she quickly finished up rinsing her hair and then she stepped out of the shower, wrapping herself in a towel before tiptoeing in front of the mirror.

She looked flushed. But that was surely only because of the hot water, and not because of anything else. After all, why would it bother her if her hair now smelled exactly like Killian’s? That would be ridiculous. The flush reddening her cheeks and chest was totally just because of the warm shower she’d just had. Or was it?

“Emma?” Killian knocked tentatively, starting her from her thoughts, “I’ve just heard the shower go off. I have some clothes for you.”

“Coming!” she said quickly drying herself up a little so that she wouldn’t make a mess. However, her damp hair still drizzled some water on the immaculate floor as she padded up to the door. 

After taking a moment to secure the towel around her frame, she unlocked the door and faced him. He was standing in sweatpants and a navy blue t-shirt that did nothing to hide his toned chest just inches from the door. A pile of clothes was balanced on one hand, as the other was busy passing a towel through his damp hair making them stick up in every direction.

Killian’s eyes widened and roamed down her body. They dropped to fixate on the clothes he was holding, when he noticed the blush on her cheeks, the tips of his ears turning red.

“This is all I could find,” he said, extending his arm but not daring to look at her in the eyes. “The hairdryer is in the cabinet under the sink if you need it.”

Emma thanked his as she took the clothes he was offering her.

“I’ll be downstairs fixing us something for lunch for when you're done.”

Emma nodded, giving him a small smile before closing the door as soon as he walked away. Taking a quick look at the clothes, she was surprised to see he gave her a t-shirt that judging by its size was one of his and a pair of leggings that definitely didn’t belong to him. 

_ Well, that’s weird. _

* * *

“Ah, Swan! Right on time. Lunch is ready,” Killian announced as soon as he saw Emma enter the kitchen, wearing a t-shirt that was way too big for her,  _ his  _ t-shirt, with a few rebel gold locks escaping from the messy bun on top of her head. Trying not to delve much into the thoughts that started to fly in his head at her vision, he swiftly put two steaming bowls of tomato soup, next to a plate with grilled cheese for the both of them. She was beautiful, but they were friends. That’s all they could be for now, possibly forever. 

He noticed her gaze following his movements with a furrow between her brows, as if she were wondering how she could help him but at the same time realising there was nothing else left to do. When her eyes landed on the grilled cheese on the table, though, her lips curved up in an excited and goofy smirk as she trotted to her seat.

“Like what you see?” Killian wiggled his eyebrows, watching her in amusement as he sat down at the other end of the table.

“I love grilled cheese.”

“Oh, is that so?” he teased her, “Your excitement was only because of food and not because of the dashing rockstar who cooked for you? I’m hurt!”

“Well, maybe a little bit of both,” Emma admitted, a bright smile forming on lips at the sight of his pout. “But mostly for the food.”

“How rude. This is the last time I cook for you,” Killian replied, offended, making Emma almost choke on the spoonful of soup she had just taken.

“No! Please. This is so good. You are such a great cook.”

“Hmm…” Killian hummed, watching her concerned face in amusement before giving in, “I accept your apology, my lady.”

“Good.”

They ate in silence for a while, both too hungry to engage in conversation, but there was no awkwardness at all. It was just the two of them having lunch at his house, on a lazy day off work, and to be honest he would get used to it without any problem, were anything ever going to happen between them. 

“Tonight your audition airs on national television, as you know, and we are supposed to watch it together, so we can discuss it. You can stay, if you want, so we could watch it here. I mean, your clothes won’t get dry anytime soon and it seems the most practical option we have,” he suddenly announced, the tips of his ears reddening in embarrassment as soon as he realised he was babbling. 

“If it’s not a problem for you, then okay.” Emma smiled. God, how he loved that smile.

“It’s not,” he reassured her quickly. “I quite like spending my time with you.”

“Yeah I quite like it too.”

* * *

“So,” Emma started, nonchalantly, as she got up to help Killian put the dishes in the dishwasher. “Do you wear women’s leggings on a regular basis or what?”

Killian looked at her confused, but when realisation struck he smiled a tight, sad smile. “They were of someone who was very close to me once. I found them at the bottom of a drawer. I hadn’t even known they were still there.”

“Oh.”

Stopping mid movement, a last bowl still in hand. Tilting his head on a side he asked, “Have you ever been in love, Swan?”

Caught off guard, Emma took her time to answer. 

“No,” she muttered, lowering her gaze as if telling him a lie. She didn’t notice the unconvinced look he gave her, as her eyes were by then fixated on the tattoo on his arm. She had never paid it much attention before, but now that she could see it from such a short distance she had to admit it was truly beautiful. It was an anchor, with colourful flowers following the rope coiled around it. The more she looked at it, the more details she noticed. The petals of the flowers, so realistic her fingers itched to touch them to feel how soft they were, the game of shadows they created on the anchor, and the rope, that was actually made of a name repeated over and over, written in a cramped cursive font to mimic the fibers. 

When curiosity took over, Emma asked, hesitating a little as she deciphered the name inked on his arm,  “Who is Milah?” 

“Someone from long ago.”

“Were you two together?” She inquired.

“Yes,” Killian simply replied, “I was about to ask her to move in with me when...” 

When voice faltered, he looked away from her, focusing on the buttons of the dishwasher, as if he’d never set one before. 

“Bad break up?” she asked him softly, too curious to let the topic drop.

“In a manner of speaking yeah,” he sighed, and when he saw her frown at his reply he added, “She died.”

That wasn’t the answer she thought she would get, and suddenly she felt bad for having been so insistent. 

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“You didn’t know Emma, it’s okay.” He reassured her, even though he clearly was the one who ended up being hurt the most by the conversation. It was totally a Killian thing to do, to comfort her when he was the one in need of comforting because of something _ she _ had said, and she both loved and hated him for that ( _ Loved? Wait what? _ )

“It’s just,” he continued, “I haven’t talked about it in quite a while.”

Emma reached for his hand and squeezed it tight. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here. And I’ll always be there and listen, even if you don’t want to talk about it now, okay?”

After a little hesitation Killian said, squeezing her hand back, “Come.”

Nodding, Emma followed him back in the living room and sat next to him on the sofa, their still interwoven hands resting on his lap. Taking a few deep breaths, Killian started talking, absentmindedly tracing circles with his thumb on the back of her hand. 

“I met Milah back when my first album got released. As you might know, it wasn’t a hit right away, but it was good enough for me to build a small group of fans. It still wasn’t enough to let me stop doing gigs at pubs around the city though, and that was exactly where we met. She was older than me but I didn’t care about it. She was beautiful, so full of life and always seeking some kind of adventure. I couldn’t help but fall for her. 

“After two years together I thought we were both ready to move in together, but I never got to ask her. I had everything ready: her key, a romantic dinner at her favourite restaurant- you know how it is. A couple of days before our date, she came here, knocking at my door at night telling me she was already married, that her husband, the director of one of those tabloids, had asked her to befriend me so that he could get some information and scoops about me to write his articles. She told me she was sorry, that she couldn’t keep it secret from me anymore because she had come to love me. 

She assured me that she had never told her husband much about me, except some innocent facts, as what instruments I could play or what were my favourite songs. She begged me to forgive her, but I was too hurt and angry. I felt like I had been played and I couldn’t think straight. I told her to leave, but the roads were slippery from the amount of rain that had been falling since the morning. She lost control of her car and got hit by a truck coming from the other side of the road. She died on impact.” 

“That is truly awful,” Emma commented, watching him brush away a single tear that had escaped from his eyelids. She gave his hand a squeeze to bring him some comfort and added, hoping her voice wouldn’t crack up too much, hoping the tears that pooled in her eyes wouldn’t fall, making him so notice how much his story affected her, “I’m so sorry.”

“If only I didn’t tell her to go-” he whispered, “I knew the roads would have been slippery, I knew it would have been dangerous for her to drive so late at night...If only I offered to drive her home-”

She couldn’t hear him blaming himself, holding this burden on his heart on his own, so she reached for his chin and tilted his head, making him face her. “Killian, hey! Look at me. Her death is not your fault. It was an accident. You couldn’t possibly know what would happen, and for all you know if you did offer to drive her back, you could have ended up dead too. I know it’s hard but never think what someone you loved did to you or to somebody else is your fault.”

“But if I didn’t get so angry, if I thought before I-”

“We are only human, Killian,” she said softly, “you can’t pretend to always be rational and in control of your feelings; especially when someone you love is involved.”

Killian stared at her for a long moment, weighing her words up but giving her a curious look. “You know, for someone who has never been in love you are quite perceptive and empathetic.” 

“Well, maybe I lied,” she confessed, “maybe I was in love once. Or so I thought.”

“And he hurt you.” It wasn’t a question but she still felt the need to answer.

“Yeah.”

“What happened?” he wondered, bringing her body closer to his, as if doing so he could snuggle the heartache away.

Taking a deep breath, Emma welcomed the comforting presence of his body and started to talk. “After Ingrid’s death, the Nolans took care for me. I didn’t have enough money to go to college, so I helped Graham, the town sheriff, at the station for a little while. He was only a few years older than me and we got along pretty well together. That is until one day, without any warning or anything, he died. Heart attack, probably caused by a heart defect that had never been diagnosed. I didn’t take it well. First my adoptive mother then him; it was too much. 

So a couple of weeks later I run away. With the money I had, I left for Boston where I found a small place to live. There I had two jobs, bail bonds person during the evenings and coffee shop waitress during the day, but it was just enough to pay the bills and survive. I wasn’t happy, per se. I was just living, you know. And then I met Neal.” Emma sighed.

“He’d come to the coffee shop I was working at every morning. We became friends pretty soon, and eventually we got together. I was young and naive and I thought he loved me, besides all the secrets he kept for me. But I really thought I loved him, you know, he was the first person - apart from Ingrid - who saw me as  _ me _ and made me feel like I could have that happy ending you read on the fairytales when you are little, so I let it slide. A few months after we got together, David tracked me down. He wrote me a letter in which he told me they understood why I left, and that they missed me. 

And that’s how we began sending each other letters back and forth every months. When I moved in with Neal, though, the letters never came through again. I tried to explain it in my head in many ways. I supposed it was because he was too busy with his job and moving to LA with Mary Margaret to keep in touch with me, but as the months passed. All I could think about was that they never wanted to have anything to do with me again. I blamed myself for so long. What I didn’t know at that time was that it was all Neal’s fault. He had purposely given David a wrong address, so that he wouldn’t try to steal me away from him. I only found it out later on though, when one day, while my then fiancé claimed he was away for work, the police knocked at the door to search our place. 

Apparently he was a thief. He left some stolen watches in our bedroom, and ran away with a girl he had been cheating on me with for months only after tipping off the police. I got arrested. I stayed behind bars for eleven months before getting out for good behaviour. The day I walked out of that place I found David and Mary Margaret waiting for me to bring me home with them.” 

As soon as she finished talking, Emma closed her eyes to try stop the tears and block the memories of her in jail, alone, scared of what would it be of her and the -

“Emma, ” he breathed out softly, the gentle touch of his hands, stroking her cheeks where two lonely tears had fallen and drawing soothing patterns on her shoulder, bringing her back to the present. 

Her misty eyes met his blue ones and she smiled to thank him for listening, for the comfort he was giving her, basically for everything he had done for her. 

“You know,” he started, the ghost of a lough in his voice, “we are quite the pair, the two of us, Swan. Life reserved us some nasty low blows and we were both abandoned and hurt by the people we loved the most, but you know what I learned in all these years?”

Emma shook her head.

“I learned that if our hearts can be broken then it’s a good thing, because it means they still work.” 

Emma studied him for a moment and, as a few bricks of the sky high walls that protected her heart broke down in pieces, she snuggled closer to him, seeking and giving all the comfort they both needed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LIVE! I know this is super late and I’m very sorry but between writer’s block and the hard time I’m having at uni it took me ages to finish this up. I hope you like it though! I honestly don’t know when I’ll be able to post chapter 13 since exams season will begin in a few days for me but I’ll try my best not to make you wait 6 weeks again. Anyway, comments make my day so if you liked this chapter or if you’ve just started reading this story, don’t be shy! I’m a sweet potato you can ask around :’).
> 
> As always, huge thanks to Tessa and Elena, my woderful friends and betas, for helping me with the editing and to all the CS Writers’ Hub ladies.

Emma was slowly climbing up the stairs, trying with all her might not to bounce up and down in excitement. She was just about to have a lesson with Killian, her first lesson before the semifinals. She couldn’t believe she had gotten so far in this competition, which was ironic because at first Ruby had to do a lot of convincing for her to even consider doing an audition. 

A few days had passed since she last saw Killian. And, to be honest, she’d spent a nice couple of days with him. Yes, him telling her how much he cared for her and them both sharing bits and pieces of their past had been emotionally draining for the both of them, but they had fun. Watching the show with him had been great, even though she had to admit that watching and hearing herself sing on television had been weird. He gave her tips, based on both the others’ performance and hers, he told her stories of what happened behind the scenes and then he made her blush furiously when he went on an impassioned rant about how much she’d improved since they’d started working together and how much of an amazing singer she is. 

The days leading to her next lesson were mostly uneventful. They would have been completely quiet if only Mary Margaret didn’t convince her to go out with Ruby. However, what she claimed was a simple ‘girls day out’ turned out being an excuse to drag Emma with them on wedding dress hunt. And apparently, only a few weeks of engagement were enough to transform Mary Margaret in what Emma could only define as a wedding obsessed monster. She dragged both her and Ruby in shop after shop, for the whole day, discussing flowers arrangements, colors themes and the pros and cons of lace and satin dresses. Yeah, it was that bad, but, truth be told, Emma had never loved shopping much. There needed to be a rare astral conjunction to find her in the mood to go around in the city and browse through piles and piles of clothes in different shops. She was one of those persons that shopped with an aim: she would enter a shop, spot what she needed to buy in a few minutes and head to the cashier to pay.

She had to admit, though, that going wedding dress shopping was another matter altogether. It was a bit overwhelming and intimidating entering those beautiful and sophisticated shops, with all those stunning, immaculate dresses hanging neatly along the walls. 

Whereas Emma felt quite out of her element there, Mary Margaret- just like Ruby- seemed unfazed by all that luxury. She was a woman on a mission: find the perfect dress, the one which would make her feel like a princess and everyone else cry. She tried on dress after dress, but she never seemed satisfied. Emma had never thought her friend would be so prickly, and she really couldn’t understand why she had been. Maybe it was because Emma wasn’t exactly made for marriage. But, then again, maybe she was more romantic than she cared to admit, and the thought of spending ages looking for a dress was absolutely crazy to her. What was the point, if the only opinion that would matter was the one of the person you were going to marry, who would find you stunning just in your pjs? Well, it wasn’t luckily she’d ever find out anyway. She was no relationship material, as she made Killian understand the other day.

Killian… Now that she thought about it, when he saw her in only a pair of leggings, his faded batman t-shirt and with a messy bun on top of her head, he gave her the same look he always gave her whenever she walked onstage, all dressed up with perfect hair and makeup. But it wasn’t anything like that with him. He was just her friend - probably her best friend - right?

As she took the last few steps to the door, Emma groaned in frustration. Why did all her thoughts have to lead to him?

She didn’t even have the time to knock, that she heard Killian’s voice coming from right behind her. 

“Morning, Emma!” he greeted, stopping next to her, with two cups of steaming coffee in hand.

“Hey! You know you don’t have to bring me hot chocolate -  _ or coffee  _ \- every time we have a lesson right?” 

“Of course I do, but I want to. And look who’s talking!” He gestured to the package she was holding, “What do you have there, Swan?”

Emma teased him, grinning, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”    


”Perhaps I would,” he replied with a cheeky smile on his lips and a sinful look in his eyes that made Emma’s cheeks flush pink.

Emma was ready to punch him on the shoulder but then reconsidered it. That coffee smelled divine; it would have been a shame if he dropped it after she'd punched him. So, for the coffee’s sake, she just rolled her eyes at the ceiling and entered the room. As she put the small bag down on the table, she could hear Killian giggle behind her. He followed her and stopped by her side, putting the coffees by whatever she brought that day.

Emma was fidgeting with the package and internally cursing Mary Margaret for closing it in such an overcomplicated way, while Killian watched her in amusement. When she finally managed to open it, she suddenly stopped, catching a movement with the corner of the eye. 

“Ah, ah, ah!” She tutted, moving away the bag from Killian, who was trying to sniff its content. “Step away or I’ll eat them both.”

Killian pouted innocently and took a step away. “And what would they be, Swan?”

“Homemade muffins!” Emma beamed, showing him a perfectly crafted chocolate muffin.

Killian took the pastry and eyed it suspiciously, not daring taking even a small bite, making Emma huff in annoyance at his theatrics.

“You didn’t make them do you?” he asked warily.

“What if I did?”

“Then it’d mean I really had underestimated both your wish to see me dead  _ and _ your cooking abilities.”

While she gently peeled the cup off her muffin, Emma snorted, shaking her head, “Mary Margaret made them. You’re safe.”

Happy with her answer, Killian took a large bite of his muffin as if he’d never seen food in days. 

“What did you get me, instead?” Emma asked, eyeing curiously at the two steaming cups next to him.    


Killian took her drink and gave it to her. “Why don’t you take a guess?”

Putting the muffin aside, she took the cup and sniffed it, before taking a sip.“Uhm…” she hesitated, ”Cappuccino? With... Chocolate?”

“Nope, but you were close,” he smirked, “It’s a latte macchiato with chocolate.”

“Oh, I like it!”

“Good.”

They drank and ate in silence for a bit, enjoying the feeling of the caffeine starting to kick in. It was just when the only things left of the muffins were only a few crumbs, that Killian broke the silence.

“You know, Emma,” he started, hand moving up to scratch behind his neck, “I think I’ve found the perfect songs for the semifinals. Would you like to take a look at them?”

“Sure.” Emma nodded excitedly.

Smiling at her enthusiasm, he walked up to the piano, and browsed the papers inside the folder laying on the stool for then going back to her. She happily accepted the stack of sheet music he offered her. 

“Killian,” Emma gasped as soon as her eyes focused on the songs’ titles, “They are perfect! How did you-?”

“As I’ve told you before, love,” Killian interrupted her with a smirk, “Open book.”

* * *

Days came and went, busy with work, rehearsals and nonstop wedding talk for her utter and unconditional joy. There wasn’t a single day that went by without an embarrassing amount of texts going back and forth between her and Killian, though. They would talk and talk, but truth be told, they were just goofing around most of the time. He especially liked to send her memes and random weird pictures of animals to tease her, to which she’d reply with either the eye roll emoji or the middle finger one. He sent her so many pictures, that by now she was sure she had at least five pictures of goats saved on her phone - yes he was that much of a dork (and she actually loved it). However, as the time passed, her excitement for the next episode they had to shoot grew more and more.

She loved the song he chose for her. It was perfect, considering everything she had to go through, both lately and in the past. She didn’t have to fish the emotions she wanted to show that deep into her heart; they were just there floating on the surface for her to catch and reel into her voice.    


( _ Wait. Was that a fishing metaphor? Damn girl, your nerves are bad… _ )

Nerves aside, she was confident in her abilities and determined to win, but only her or Elsa would go to the final, and Emma knew her friend wouldn't go down without a fight. She had heard Elsa sing a couple of times during rehearsals but every contestant, her included, used to conceal themselves a little during group rehearsals. She had heard her audition on telly too, but it was only when Ruby made her watch the show on Monday that she realised how talented Elsa actually was. 

When shooting day finally arrived, Emma’s insides were already a ball of jittery energy. A part of her wanted to go knock at Killian’s dressing room door as soon as she got to the studios. As much much as she didn't like to admit it, even just seeing him would have helped her relax, but she couldn't go. She really couldn't. Their relationship had already been much more intimate than what was expected from them; they couldn't be seen hanging around and interacting with each other as they used to. Not there, not ever. If someone were to find out, all hell would break loose. So, Emma disgruntledly willed her feet to walk past the coaches’ dressing rooms and headed to hair and makeup, hoping that a few hours of sitting on a comfy chair while being fussed over would calm her nerves. Elsa was already there too, so, as soon as Emma sat down on her assigned chair next to her, they started talking. However, when Ashley threatened to draw mustaches with waterproof eyeliner on both their faces, they both stopped. Ashley was a sweet girl but it was better not to cross her, so, while Elsa decided to put on her earbuds and listen to some music, Emma focused her attention on Ashley’s movements as she gave the last few touches on her makeup before starting working on a complicated updo. 

They were almost ready to go get dressed when she heard Elsa muttering the lyrics of the song she’d sing.

“I'm not gon' care if I sing off key, I find myself in my melodies. I sing for love, I sing for me,” 

“I shout it out like a bird set free,” Emma sang with her, making Elsa blush as she realised she had been singing out loud.

“Sorry,” she smiled, taking one of the earbuds off.

“Don’t be,” Emma brushed her off with a smile, “It’s a beautiful song. I think it’s perfect for you.”

“Thank you. I think I’ve got to go get changed now,” Elsa said, taking a quick look at her schedule. “Good luck!”

“Likewise.”

* * *

It was always hard for him to pretend not to be nervous and excited for his team when shooting, and the uneasiness would only grow when the time for Emma to perform got closer. And today wasn’t an exception. It wasn’t really professional for him, not at all, but he couldn’t help it. She was special, his best friend. The best friend his heart longed for but he didn’t dare make a move on because the timing was not ideal, because he could see the uncertainty in her eyes. Sometimes she would look at him with such love and affection that it made his breath catch in his throat, but then it’d soon be replaced with fear. He couldn't risk it. He'd patiently wait all the time she needed but he wouldn't stop fighting for her. After all, as his brother used to say, a man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets.

Robin was joking around with Tink and Ariel was laughing along as the lights dimmed out, but he wasn’t in the mood to join them. Emma and Elsa were the first to sing and he probably was more nervous than them. The fact that this time around it was Emma’s turn to perform first decisively didn’t help at all, but he was more than confident in her abilities.

From where he was sitting he could see her patiently waiting to climb onstage when announced. Her eyes were closed and her eyebrows knotted in a concentrated frown. As if she sensed the burn of his stare on her, she opened her eyes and smiled at him, nodding as if to say ‘Don’t worry, I got it’. He gave her a soft smile in return just as he heard her name being announced by Belle and the audience go wild. He couldn’t believe he had been so stunned at Emma’s sight in the backstage to not even hear Belle talking.

He followed her with his eyes as she sprinted in the arena, high fiving the people standing next to the short corridor that lead her on the sage. She was radiant, jumping around in excitement and smiling brightly.

_ She must be enjoying not having to balance on those ridiculously high heels for once,  _ he thought with a chuckle.

Soon, she reached the right side of the stage where a white grand piano was waiting for her. Sitting on the stool after smudging some non existing wrinkles from her navy blue lace dress, she put her hands on the keyboard. A few gold locks which had masterly been left out of the loose chignon on the back of her head, framed her face as she tilted her chin down waiting for the music to start.

The lights dimmed even more, only to leave a single white spotlight illuminating her. It was only when silence fell in the studio that the music began coming from the numerous speakers around the theater. Her voice resounded in the arena soon after, her tone soft and crystal clear as always, while small white sparkles exploded on the screen behind her following the melody coming from her fingers.

He couldn’t help but look at her in wonder - much like everyone else in the theater - as she worked her magic. He was drawn in, placed under a spell as she moved to the refrain. If he thought she had been good at that at the auditions, now it was another thing altogether. Not only did she have much more control on her voice, being now able to modulate it as she pleased, but she could control her emotions better too. She could now channel them into her voice without so much of an effort, avoiding to flow into excess at times. It was a beautiful evolution to watch.  _ She  _ was beautiful to watch.

_ But I’m only human _

_ And I bleed when I fall down _

_ I’m only human _

_ And I crash and I break down _

_ Your words in my head, knives in my heart _

_ You build me up and then I fall apart _

_ 'Cause I’m only human, _

As she got closer to the second refrain, the music built in intensity as did the sparkles on the screen. Swiftly, she picked the mic from its stall and got up reaching the center of the stage hitting high note after high note. The stage flashed with white rays of light as she sang, following her voice and the music in a crescendo that lit up the audience. There was all of Emma in there: all the hurt, all the worry, all the battles she had to fight, all the desire to just be  _ Emma _ .

Then everything went black, except for a single ray of light on the top of Emma’s head. Her voice started back from soft and low to grow in one last crescendo that would lead to the last final high notes, only for it to dye down in a whisper at the end.

Both Tink and Ariel shot up to applaud her as soon as the last feeble echo of her voice resounded in the arena, while Robin clapped slowly pleased and still a bit awestruck. Killian, instead, was grinning proudly at her, clapping along with everyone else. The cheering from the audience was deafening, and Killian could see her cheeks tinging pink as she muttered a thanks. When their eyes met a few moments later she smiled softly, her eyes shining with emotion. Time must had stopped, because the seconds in which they only but looked at each other, lasted an eternity. Their eyes were like magnets, the pull too strong to fight it and try to look down. He hoped he could see the love, the adoration and the pride in his eyes, just as he could see the affection and the adrenaline-induced liveliness in hers. It was only when Belle ushered her backstage to present Elsa’s song that their connection broke. 

Elsa got onstage soon after, not looking fazed at all by Emma’s performance. On the contrary, she looked more determined and secure than ever. In fact, she kept up with her teammate more than nicely. She gave everything she had, blowing everyone away with her (until then fairly hidden) talent. 

After the second standing ovation of the day, the time for him and the other coaches to vote finally came. It had been hard for all four of them to decide to whom give their point since they all had loved both their performance. Eventually it all ended in a tie, with Robin surprisingly giving his vote to Emma and Killian to Elsa. As soon as he gave his preference though, he saw a flash of hurt and confusion in Emma’s eyes matched by an equally confused and elated expression on Elsa’s face, while boos from the audience echoed in the theater. 

Bringing a finger on his lips to ask ask for a moment of silence, he then spoke “I’d like to give an explanation of my vote to you and to everyone else here and watching us. I, as coach to both of you,” he continued, gesturing to Emma and Elsa, “not only got to meet you amazing women, but I also got to see how much you care about this, how much you’ve improved. Tonight both your performances were beyond not only mine, because I know your potential, but everyone else’s expectations. After tonight you both equally deserve to get to the final, and since I couldn’t really find fault in any of your performances, I decided to make you face the audience’s vote next week without any of you having any kind of advantage.”

As he talked, Emma’s expression changed to something undecipherable, and that scared him. She was closing off on him again. 

As both Emma and Elsa walked backstage to leave the space to Ariel’s team, he hoped she would understand that he couldn’t give his vote to her again, no matter how much he wanted. 

When a last flash of her gold waves disappeared backstage, Killian just prayed she would give him a chance to explain himself when not surrounded by cameras.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you were wondering, Emma’s song is ‘Human’ by Christina Perry whereas Elsa’s is ‘Bird Set Free’ by Sia.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back!! Exams season finished earlier than thought so here it is: a new chapter ready for you. And a pretty long one too *throws confetti around*. The plan is to write the next chapter before going on vacation but I guess we’ll see if the muse likes the idea too or not. Anyway, comments make my day so if you liked this chapter or if you’ve just started reading this story, don’t be shy! I’m a sweet potato you can ask around :’). (Seriously, I love being shouted at. I am needy.)
> 
> As always, thanks to Tessa and Elena, my wonderful friends and betas, for helping me with the editing and to all the CS Writers’ Hub ladies for all the sprints and brainstorming sessions. A special thank you goes to Clare too for helping me deal with this beast <3

After Emma’s performance on Saturday, time passed in a bit of a blur. She understood why Killian had decided to vote for Elsa - the apologetic subtle glances he’d directed her were pretty self-explanatory - but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

Killian had tried to talk to her after they were done with shooting, but with all the people busy with their tasks buzzing around them, she just bid him goodnight with a tight smile on her lips. He didn’t try to contact her again after that, at least, not too soon. She was almost expecting to get a text from him the morning after, but apparently, he just knew she needed time to be by herself. On Sunday, she had spent two solid hours stressing about why he hadn’t reached out to her yet. When twenty-four hours later he finally did, she just ignored his text for a while. He’d wanted to know if she would have liked to see the show with him that night, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready to face him again so soon, not by spending the evening with him anyway. So, when Emma got a call from her boss that day giving her a new case to work on, she let out a sigh of relief. Bringing her phone back from her ear, she quickly typed a reply to Killian.

**E: I’m sorry but I can’t make it tonight. Gotta work.**

Considering how much time had passed since he sent her the text, she was surprised to see the three dots appearing under her message.

**K: No problem, love.**

**K: Please, be careful.**

**K: I know you are more than capable of defending yourself, but if you need any help, even just company during stakeouts, remember I’m just a phone call away.**

Emma rolled her eyes at the screen. Always the gentleman, that man.

**E: I always am and thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.**

* * *

Days passed without any improvement on their situation. She would always find an excuse every time he suggested spending time together outside the studios. Even when they were there rehearsing the duet the mood was far from the one that there used to be during their lessons. And he missed his friend, his Swan. The last time he had seen her like that it was when she had been chasing that poor excuse of a man, Felix. And he was scared, so, so scared that had happened to her again, that the person Emma told him she was supposed to catch had hurt her either physically or psychologically just as Felix did.     


As he came to that realization, blood drained from his face. He just hoped the reason she had been so distant lately was that she was mad at him, because he really didn’t want to see her so broken and fragile ever again. He just couldn’t.

“Hey, Jones!” A voice called behind him as he was finishing collecting his stuff after rehearsals with both Emma and Elsa and a long day at the studios.

“Good morning Lady Bell,” he greeted her, only giving a brief glance in the general direction of the door. She was standing on the threshold, her side laying against the doorframe, wearing her characteristic old, faded Pink Floyd’s tee and with a messy bun on the top of her head.

Tink wrinkled her nose, “Don’t call me that.”

“Don’t call me Jones then,” he answered back playfully, as he got closer to her putting a guitar away in the process, “You only do that when you’ve had a few libations and it’s been a while since we both drank that much alcohol.”

“Well, you’ve all been busy lately. We all have.” She said, giving him a weird look as they left the room and walked down the corridor, “I was talking about it with the guys earlier and we decided it’s high time we went out again. You know, like old times.”     


Killian rose his eyebrows in surprise, “That sounds lovely.”

“You are game then?” She asked casually, “No pretty blonde to pillage and plunder or whatever you pirate types are up to these days?”

“I- I am,” he stuttered. Did she know about him and Emma? Not that there was a ‘him and Emma’ anyway, but their relationship was much more than what it was supposed to be. And even if it was, how  _ could _ Tink know anyway? They had been careful. Perhaps someone had told her? Did she see them somewhere? But most importantly, did anyone else  _ know _ ?

“I- There isn’t a- Why are you asking?” Killian finally managed to spit out as he moved his hand up to rub the back of his neck.

Tink eyed him curiously for a moment, taken aback by his reaction. However, she just brushed it off, giving a playful push on his arm as they got outside and walked towards their cars, “I was just joking, Killian. I know I’m the only blonde in your life.”

Killian laughed nervously at that and said, swiftly changing subject, “Have you guys already decided when we’ll go out?”

“If you count ‘someday around next week’ a solid decision then yes,” she joked as they approached her shiny new BMW, “Otherwise…”

“Why does this not surprise me? It’s not like we ever decide to do anything last minute.”

“Of course not, we are responsible people,” Tink snorted, not able to keep a straight face anymore.

“Oh, definitely,” Killian nodded with a grin. He had missed hanging out with his friends. Working on Enchanted while also doing their job as musicians, left all of them with just enough time to spend their time with their significant other and family - if there were any, of course. But he had none of those. No family, not in quite a while, and the woman he was in love with was his not only his best friend, but also a contestant.

He didn’t have the time to dive into the fact that he had just accidentally admitted to himself the depth of his feelings for Emma, because Tink spoke again.

“Don’t tell the others but, you know Killian, I’ve kinda missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” he admitted, caressing her arm before giving her a quick peck on the cheek, “It’s late. Go home, Tink. I’m sure Jefferson is waiting for you.”

“Yeah, he is.” Tink blushed, “Good night, Killian.”

As she sat on the driver's seat, Killian shut the car door behind her. While the sky tinged pink as the sun set, Killian watched her drive towards the studios’ gates. He may have forgotten what it would feel like coming home to a loved one after a long day at work, but he could feel the joy radiating from her when he mentioned her boyfriend. They’d managed to keep their relationship secret for months, to protect Jefferson daughter, Grace, from the spotlight. And even after she had announced it to the world, Tink made herself clear that she wanted to keep her private life just as it was: private. Everyone understood that, fans and even journalists, so why wouldn’t this work for him and Emma too? If he wanted to keep her in his life - and he certainly did, even if that meant keeping his feelings for her by himself and remaining just friends - then he had to fight for it. She probably didn’t realize it, but just by being herself she was putting him back together, piece by piece, day after day, healing the scars cutting through his heart with only a smile. And he hoped that it was the same for her too.

* * *

A week passed and nothing had changed.

She felt a bit childish at holding a grudge for that long over something as trivial as not getting Killian’s vote last week, but it wasn’t that simple. He had been right, after all. Honestly, she was surprised no one - besides Elsa - seemed to notice or question their atypical relationship. But still, it was too risky for them to keep that up. Both their careers (well  _ his _ career and her future hypothetical one) and their reputations were at stake.

So she avoided him as much as she could. And she felt horrible about it, she really did. She could see the hurt he tried so hard to conceal in his eyes during rehearsals; she could almost hear the disappointment in his voice in all the ‘Oh it’s okay’s and ‘No problem, love’s he texted her whenever she turned him down.    


_ It’s for the best _ , she used to tell herself. But no matter how many times she repeated those words in her head, keeping her distance from him didn’t get any easier.

Dammit, she was hurting too! She missed her best friend so much it hurt. Yes, she had Ruby and David and Mary Margaret, but it was not the same. Killian could - as he so proudly liked to affirm - read her so easily it was almost scary. And he was as much of an open book as she was for him too.

Rehearsals in particular were absolutely the worst.

There definitely wasn’t any goofing around and never ending fits of laughter. No innuendos (well not many anyway; the man clearly couldn’t restrain himself sometimes), no terrible puns, no babbling incoherently at the mic. They were tense, walking on eggshells around each other both when singing and when discussing their song. And you could hear this new uneasiness between them in their performance too. She knew that. He knew that. But no matter how much they tried, they couldn’t recreate artificially something that wasn’t there anymore. Not without exposing themselves, by baring their souls and forgetting anything had ever happened.

It had been a Monday (and Emma  _ hated _ Mondays) when, while another fruitless rehearsal came to an end for her, Elsa walked in the room, greeting them both with a warm smile on her lips. After muttering a ‘hello’, both Emma and Killian’s eyes followed her as she plopped on the couch to revise the lyrics of her duet.    


“I’ll just -,” Emma started, putting her sheet music back into her bag, eyes focused on everywhere but his, “I’ll just go then.”

She was marching to the door when she heard the soft and quick thuds of Killian’s feet on the parquet flooring right behind her.

“Emma, wait! Could I please have a word with you?” He glanced over his back where Elsa was watching them curiously before adding in a whisper, “In private.”

Not trusting her voice, she nodded, eyes anxiously darting around.

“Thank you, love,” Killian said softly. He then turned around to face Elsa, who tried to fake nonchalance. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Oh, sure! Take your time!” she replied quickly with a shrug, sending Emma a piercing look as if to say ‘We are so gonna talk later, girl’.

Killian opened the door, holding it for Emma as he said, a gesture of his hand following his words, “After you then, Swan.”

As soon as the door closed shut behind them, and after checking that there was no one around in the corridor, he shifted closer, the space between them getting almost nonexistent.

Emma almost choked on a gasp of air. She could feel his breath tingling her nose, and the scent of leather and faintly spiced cologne filled her nostrils.

“Are you alright, love?” he asked, an unreadable expression on his face. “The guy you were chasing, he didn’t hurt you did he? I know you are amazing at what you do and more than capable of defending yourself, but you’ve been distant and the last time I saw you like this…”

As realization dawned on her, a pang of guilt shot into her stomach. He thought the case she had been working on all those days back, the job she never told me she had been done with in a little over a day, had been like Felix’s all over again.

Taking her silence as affirmation, he paled as his eyes turned a steely blue with fury, searched hers frantically, as if he hoped to find there something that would tell him otherwise.

“Killian, calm down,” she told him, and then continued when she saw he was about to counter, “I’m fine. And before you ask me again, he didn’t hurt me, physically or otherwise. I caught him pretty quickly, actually. All it needed was a nice red dress, batting my eyelashes a bit and booting his car.”

Killian relaxed at that, breathing out a relieved giggle, which mixed with Emma’s nervous one.

Biting slightly her lower lip, she spoke again, “You are right though. I haven’t been myself lately, but after last week -” She trailed off, “I know it sounds childish but, even though I understood your reasons, and even though Elsa is a friend, I was a bit mad that you preferred giving your vote to her at first. But then I took a bit of time to think about what you said back then and you were right. We can’t keep this up, it’s just too risky. For the both of us.”

Emma took a deep breath, looking directly at him before lowering her gaze, as she ended her thought with a whisper, “I just... Maybe it’s better if we spend some time apart, Killian.”

“Emma, no…” Dumbfounded, Killian reached for her hand, his tone almost pleading.

Emma pulled it back quickly, but not fast enough to prevent his fingers brushing against hers, sending a spark of electricity running down her spine. Keeping her eyes on her feet, she tightened her grip on her purse in an attempt to give herself some strength. And she then walked past him, an apology barely escaping the prison of her lips; his name dying on the tip of her tongue.

Mondays did indeed suck. If she needed any proof, well, this was it.

* * *

Killian hated Wednesdays. He always had, ever since he was a child. If you asked around, most people would tell you that they hated Mondays the most. Even though the events of that week might have made him reconsider, he was still headset on his opinion. Wednesdays were just too far away from both the excitement of the beginning of a new week and from the relief that only the approaching weekend could give. In hindsight, judging by how the week had started for him, he could have predicted that that Wednesday would have been as bad as the previous forty-eight hours, but honestly, he didn’t think things could get any worse than they already were.

He had been so wrong.

It all started when he got a call first thing in the morning from Regina telling him - well, more shouting than telling - that there had been a change of plans and he had to get his “leather-panted ass to the studios and do the damn promotional shoots”. And that’s how he spent hours standing in front of a bright blue screen under a set of bright white lights, as a photographer snapped picture after picture of him, telling him to tilt his head  _ just so _ and more ridiculous things.

By the time he got home, he barely had the time to shower that his phone went off again. Groaning, he swiped his thumb on the screen of his phone and put it on speaker so that he could freely look for something to wear for dinner with Robin and the girls. Ariel had gotten a reservation in one of those few fancy restaurants that got so popular among celebrities in LA because they wouldn’t allow any paparazzi to snap pictures of their customers while inside. She also invited Belle to tag along, which she happily agreed to.

“Killian! Oh, thank God you answered!” Tink’s exasperated voice came from his phone from where he had dropped it on his bed.

“Good evening, lass.”

“Hey. I need a favor for tonight.”

“Well you know I’m always up to do a  _ favor _ or two to a beautiful woman like you,” he snickered, putting out of the closet a plain white shirt and a black vest.

“Not like that, you pervert!” She laughed, “There was an emergency at the hospital and Jeff had to go, but his car is at the mechanic so he had to take mine. Could you by any chance give me a lift?”

“Of course. Have you found anyone to watch over Grace yet? Because if not you could try ask Regina. I’m sure the lass will love hanging around with Henry.”

“That’s a great idea! I’ll call her then.”

“If that’s alright with you, I’ll be there in about an hour. How does that sound?” He asked fishing a pair of socks from the drawer.

“Perfect. Thank you, Killian,” Tink said before closing the call.

Killian took a look at the watch and then at the pile of clothes he threw on his bed as he passed a towel on his still damp hair.

_ Great _ , he thought,  _ now I have even less time than before. _

Surprisingly, both he and Tink managed to arrive just on time.

The place was as posh as he remembered, with black mirror-like walls and soft dim lights illuminating the room, but the food was even better. After some initial awkwardness, Belle fit right in with them, asking questions to them all and listening to Robin's ridiculous stories (“Remember when a couple of fangirls approached me after one of your concerts Ariel, only to ask me if I could introduce them to Killian?” “Actually I don't.” “What do you mean you  _ don't _ ?!”). Killian hadn't had that much fun since… Well, since the time Emma spent the day - and then the next -   with him. He couldn't forget the spark in her eyes and the way the genuine, happy smile resting on her face seemed to illuminate the room as they watched Disney movies together. 

Speaking of Emma, the fact that none of them had asked him about her yet was equally a concern and a relief. Didn't they really notice anything? Why weren't they pestering him with questions?    


“Mate?” Robin called him, waking him up from his stupor, “Did you hear anything of what she said?”

“Oh, no. I'm sorry. What was the question?”

“I was wondering how Emma was?” Belle asked kindly again, “The show is almost over and I've never had the opportunity to actually talk to her. And she always seems so, I don’t know, distant?”

Killian froze.

“She's truly amazing,” he started after taking a few moments to think what to say and how, “She's funny, compassionate and, let me tell you, she has a hell of a punch, but she doesn't trust people easily. It took me a while to gain her trust. Actually, at the beginning we didn't really get along, but I'm glad we went over that.”

He was so busy weighing up each word before it escaped his mouth, that he didn’t notice the fond smile that appeared on his lips as he talked.

Belle didn’t miss it though and she observed, “You sound like you know her pretty well.”

“Well yes, she’s a friend,” Killian told her right away without thinking. Realizing what he had said, he felt the tips of his ears turning red. “I mean, by now I consider both her and Elsa a friend,” he stammered, trying to explain himself, “But Emma… I’d love to keep her around after all of this will be over, that’s all.”

He tried to ignore the pointed looks both Tink and Robin were giving him, but it was hard with the silence that had fallen after he spoke.

“Maybe we should get going,” Ariel suggested, breaking the silence as she took a glance at the horde of photographers that was starting to form behind the restaurant’s doors.

By the time they got ready to leave though, exiting the building without making much of a scene had been impossible. Killian and Tink were the first to get outside, his hand falling automatically on the lower of her back to guide her through the crowd as Robin followed them shortly with Ariel and Belle. Flashes were going off nonstop, pics were snapped and questions fired at them. It was disorienting and overwhelming.

As soon as both of them got inside the car though, they let out a relieved sigh, before following their friends’ cars out of the parking lot.

During the drive back and the rest of the night until he fell asleep, Killian prayed he wouldn’t wake up to any twisted articles about that night. It had been just a dinner with friends and colleagues, but he had been under the spotlight long enough to know how this world worked. However, a little hope never hurt anyone.

When the next morning he checked his phone though, he groaned. He had been right. Wednesdays did indeed suck more than Mondays.

* * *

After getting back home at three in the morning the previous night thanks to a last minute job her boss had put her on, the only thing Emma wanted to do on her conveniently scheduled morning off was sleeping. But of course, she got woken up far too early for her liking by someone banging at her door. Groaning, she took the pillow next to her head and she put it on top of her face to muffle the noise in the vain hope whoever it was would go away.

Suddenly the knocking stopped, only to be followed by the fumbling of keys against the lock.

“Emma, it’s me!” Mary Margaret shouted, closing the door behind her.

Emma sighed and moaned with the voice still rusty from sleep, putting the pillow back in its place, “Lemme sleep!”

“There you are,” her friend exclaimed, unceremoniously entering her bedroom and switching on the lights.

Breathing out another sigh, Emma winched at the sudden change of light.

“What are you doing here Mary Margaret?”

“Have you checked Twitter yet? Because if you haven’t, then just stay away from it. Don’t look at gossip magazines either,” she said quickly.

“I don’t - What..” Emma frowned, confused, “You’ve literally just woken me up, how could I possibly have checked Twitter or anything else? And why should I stay away from the Internet?”

“Oh, right. Well just don’t look okay?”

“No. What is it?” Emma pushed, taking Mary Margaret’s hand and pulling her down to sit with her on the bed.

“It’s about Killian.”

Emma’s eyes widened, taking her phone to check for any messages from him, “Did anything happen? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine Emma, calm down.” She reassured her, putting a hand on her shoulder, “You are going to look anyway, aren’t you?”

Emma just nodded and watched her friend pulling reluctantly her phone from her purse.

“It’s just, you’ve been a bit off in the last few days and you’ve stopped mentioning Killian at all. I don’t know what happened and if you don’t want to tell me I won’t ask, but you seemed pretty close and now with this…” she babbled, finally handing Emma her phone to see.

It was an article on one of those trashy magazines. Big pink flashy letters screamed at her ‘ _Has the Fairy found her Pirate? Scroll down to find out the latest Enchanted scoop_ ’. There were pictures under that. Lots of them. They were all of Killian and Tink, she dressed in a skintight dark green dress and him in a tux. In some he was helping her out his car, in others, he had his hand on her back as they left a restaurant. There were also older pictures of them talking in the studios’ parking lot and of him kissing her cheek.

“It might be nothing, you know,” Mary Margaret said softly but Emma ignored her.

She skimmed through the article instead, the words barely registering into her head. It said something about the blurry picture of Emma and Killian at the coffee shop being actually a picture of him and Tink since he’d never commented anything on the identity of that woman. It talked about a ‘secret boyfriend’ and how close Tink and Killian always were. Emma felt sick.

“Emma? Are you alright?” Mary Margaret asked, worried by her silence.

No, she wasn’t alright. She was hurt, she was jealous and she was scared because she shouldn't be feeling like this. He was her friend, nothing more. He couldn’t be anything more. But apparently that wasn’t enough to prevent her from developing feelings for him.

Giving the phone back to Mary Margaret, she just shook her head.

“Oh honey,” she whispered, taking Emma in her arms, “I’m sure there’s an explanation. Everything will be alright.”

Emma had never thought there would be a day worse than Monday, but apparently, it had just turned out that Thursdays were possibly even worse.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luckily I’ve been in a nice writing mood lately so, yeah, mission accomplished a full week earlier than planned *woohoo*. Anyway, this might easily be my new favourite chapter, I had so much fun writing it and I hope you’ll like it too. If you want to scream at me after reading this, do it I love seeing your reaction!
> 
> Thanks to the wonderful and lovely Clare for her crazy betaing skills and, as always, to all the CS Writers’ Hub ladies for all the sprints and brainstorming sessions.

Emma walked towards the stage; her posture stiff, ready for a fight, eyes shining with determination. She was going to talk to him, Mary Margaret had convinced her to.

According to her friend, Killian was in love with her as much as she was with him. And no matter how many times Emma tried to explain to her that firstly, even though yes she could admit she had feelings for him, she wasn’t sure she could call it love, and secondly, she couldn’t possibly love someone she had known for less than a couple of months, Mary Margaret wouldn’t listen. The problem was that whereas her friend believed in love at first sight, true love and all that fairytale-y shit, Emma didn’t. Not at all. She wasn’t going to confess her feelings for him, whatever they were, or some other shit just because her friend wanted her to. No, Emma wanted answers. She thought she knew that Killian and Tink were just friends, but were they actually? After that article, the drama that exploded among the fans and all the other articles that started to pop up in the following twenty-four hours, she wasn’t sure anymore. And yes maybe she was just jealous, but after all, who wouldn’t be?

“Emma!” Killian exclaimed, walking up to her as she emerged from backstage, “Can we… Can we talk for a moment?”

Emma nodded and crossed her arms over her chest. “Go on then. Let’s talk.”

“I guess I should take that as proof you saw that article right?”

“Yes. And the others that came after that one. Twitter too. Everybody seemed to have an opinion on it except you or Tink,” she said flatly.

“Oh,” he said, his eyes widening in shock, “Well, everything they wrote is bullshit, better not to give them any ammunitions. I wanted you to hear that from myself. You know, talk face to face.”

“Really?” she asked, raising her eyebrows, “And why would you have to do that? You can do whatever you want, it’s not like we are together or anything.”

“Yes, really,” he retorted, “Why, are you jealous?”

“No,” Emma said quickly, far too quickly to be convincing. Blushing at the way Killian skeptically arched his left brow, she continued as if nothing happened, “You didn’t answer my question.”

Killian passed his hand through his hair and sighed, “Perhaps it’s because I’d like us to be more than friends, some day.”

“Killian…” Emma started, hoping he wouldn’t read the shock and hope all over her face, “This is not -”

“What? Appropriate? The right time?” He interrupted her in an angry whisper after he took a quick look around to check they were alone. His eyes then focused on hers, the strength of his gaze almost too much for her to hold, “I bloody well know that! But I couldn’t keep this inside for much longer, not when it’s making things worse between us than they already are. I understand if you don’t want to take things any further, but all you have to do is tell me and promise you won’t run away from me anyway.”

“I -” she hesitated, too stunned to process a full sentence, “I’m sorry. I’ve never...”

His face fell, but he still tried to give her a reassuring smile. “There’s no need for you to say anything else. Be ready for rehearsals in fifteen.”

And with that he walked away, leaving a speechless Emma behind.

* * *

 _Nice, Emma. Well done_ , she thought, wandering around the labyrinth of corridors backstage.

Deep down she had known how much he actually cared for her, but hearing it directly from his lips was another thing altogether. Her heart had started beating so fast that for an instant she feared it would have escaped her chest and her mind went completely blank. She’d only dared to hope he would feel the same for her, but he did, and thanks to that wonderful display of those communication skills of hers, now he thought she didn’t.

Chocolate. She needed some chocolate. Ice-cream would have been ideal to get some sugar courage before facing him again but all she had at hand was a little money and a vending machine. But of course, when she was only a couple of moments away from her chocolatey pick me up, the thing got stuck between the support and the plexiglass.

“Oh, come on,” she groaned, hitting the machine to make her Apollo bar fall down.

“Bad day?” A voice asked behind her.

Emma shot a quick look behind her back and then focused her attention back on her still stuck snack.

“You could say that,” Emma said with gritted teeth as with a last punch she managed to get her packaged chocolate fix, and added, turning around to face Tink, “Pretty used to bad days by now.”

Tink smiled apologetically, “I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be. This isn’t your fault.”

Tink gave her a tight, unconvinced smile before changing the subject. “Shouldn’t you be rehearsing your duet with Killian now?”

Emma sighed, “I still have a few minutes.”

“Is everything alright?”

“I...” Emma hesitated, tilting her chin down. Truth was she really didn’t know what to say. Well, yes things were not okay but it still was partially Tink’s fault for not telling anyone but her friends about her ‘secret boyfriend’.

“Is it Killian? What did he do?” Tink asked, worried by her reaction.

“No, no. It’s me,” she finally admitted, hoping she would stop asking questions, “I fucked up.”

“I doubt you did. That man loves you too much. I don’t know what happened, but I’m sure he has already forgiven you.”

“I - What?!” Emma stuttered. She just couldn’t believe what she had just heard.

 _This must be a joke. He can’t already be in love with me, we only met a few weeks ago_ , Emma thought. Tink, just like Mary Margaret, must be mistaken. He’d practically just admitted he liked her yes, but _love_? No way.

Tink looked incredulously at her, as if she thought this wasn’t news to Emma, “I’ve known Killian for years,” she insisted. “And last time I saw him like this it was with Milah. He loves you, Emma, and I think you love him too.”

Okay, no, this was definitely too much. “Wait. Why are you telling me this? I mean aren’t you two,” Emma gestured vaguely, “a thing?”

“Oh, I’m gonna kill him!” She exclaimed, “This is about the pictures, isn’t it? Didn’t he tell you anything? I thought he would have.”

“Well, he said it was all bullshit but I was bit jealous, I guess, and…”

“And it’s hard to believe such a thing when everyone and everything is screaming at you otherwise,” Tink completed the sentence for her and added, reaching for her arm to give her some reassurance, “Trust me I know how you feel. I saw my boyfriend’s reaction too many times during our first months together to not understand. It’s never easy for him, but it’s getting better. He wasn’t even mad yesterday. But probably that’s because he knows that Killian is like a brother to me.”

“Why haven’t you two told the world you are together?”

After letting out a sigh, Tink explained, “Jefferson is not a model, nor an actor, nor a musician. He is a doctor and he got dragged into this crazy world where privacy basically has no meaning thanks to me. Like everyone who isn’t used to it, seeing his personal life in magazines, being followed around, photographed while getting your coffee is disquieting. Also, he has a daughter, Grace. When we started seeing each other we didn’t even have to think twice about keeping our relationship off the spotlight for her sake and protection. She’s only 9 now, and she has just started seeing me as a mother figure a few months ago. Someday I’ll tell everyone about us, but not for a little while. I - _we_ \- want Grace to live away from this world as much as possible.”

God, she had been so stupid. She couldn’t believe she had jumped to conclusions so quickly after knowing how ruthless and a sucker for drama and scoop the media is.

“I’m sorry,” Emma muttered as she felt the tips of her ears burning hot in shame, “You know, for assuming what they wrote was true.”

“Don’t be. They can make everyone doubt whether what they say is true or not,” Tink gave her a bright smile, “Now go! I think your time is up.”

Smiling back at her, Emma started jogging on the way to the stage, but she suddenly stopped. “Tink wait,” she called after her turning around again, “Is there anyone else suspecting there’s, you know... _Something_ between me and Killian?”

“It’s just me, Belle, Ariel and Robin,” she said counting them on her fingers. “But, don’t worry, we like you, Emma, as we obviously like Killian. We’ve got your back,” she added with a wink.

* * *

Emma managed to get on stage just on time, even if she was a bit out of breath from running there.

“Here she is!” Killian exclaimed as she got closer to him, “Are you ready to start, Swan?”

He didn’t even wait for a reply, that he put some distance between them, walking away to fix some cables of the microphones that obviously were just perfect as they were.

“Killian wait!” Emma said, running after him. He slowly looked up at her, as if he feared to meet directly her eyes, and only then she started, “About earlier…”

“No, Swan,” he interrupted her right away, “As I said before you don’t have to explain. I’ve got the message.”

“Even if you got it wrong?”

Killian just stared at her, eyes fixed on hers as his brows knitted together in confusion. He clearly wasn’t expecting her to say that, so, taking advantage of his silence, she started to explain, “You took me by surprise and I didn’t know what to tell you earlier.”

“And now you do?” He asked hopefully, taking a step closer, his hand reaching for a lock of gold waves to secure it behind her ear. He was so close she could feel his breath tingling on her lips. The urge to say ‘fuck it’ to discretion and drag his lips to hers by tugging his shirt was almost too much, the memory of the kiss they shared that night on his couch making things even worse. She wanted so badly to give in, show him that her feelings for him were far beyond platonic. But she fucking _couldn’t_.

“Yes,” she nodded, taking a deep breath before trying to put into words what she knew she couldn’t really express, “I -”

“Are you two quite done?” the stage manager shouted, making them jump apart, “We are on a tight schedule and no one here wants to go home late this evening.”

“Yes. Sorry” Killian said quickly, securing a mic on his belt and taking another for Emma, “We’ll get started right away.”

She wondered if she should wait to finish what she wanted to say, but he had already thought she didn’t return his feelings once, she didn’t want it to happen again just because they were interrupted. She wanted to fix things between them for once. So, as he lifted her up on the piano, she whispered in his ear, “Killian?”

“Mhm?”

As her thighs gently hit the piano she whispered again, “I really don’t want to stay apart from you again.”

At that Killian tilted his head back, looking at her as if to check she wasn’t joking. His hands were still on her hips, and she swore they stayed like that for hours. But then the spell broke when they heard the drummer giving the orchestra the tempo. Killian reluctantly had to let her and go take a seat on the stool to start playing.

That time he was the one to miss his cue.  

* * *

Being on a live show was probably the most stressful thing Killian had ever done. Forget the concerts, red carpets, awards and even the interviews with labels he had to do when he first started. Everyone working on Enchanted was on edge, from the producers to the crew and makeup artists. You could just feel the tension in the air. Such an environment certainly didn’t help any of the singers’ nerves, he and the other judges included. Luckily, for this special second part of the semifinals, each contestant got to invite a few friends or family members to cheer for them and with whom they could spend the time before their performance. Killian, Belle and the other judges weren’t so lucky though, so, to escape the madness, they all basically locked themselves in their changing rooms.

It was only when the hand of the clock hit the six, indicating there was still half an hour left to the show, that he got up and left his changing room, headed to the waiting rooms backstage.

First, he found Elsa’s room. She was sitting on the couch already wearing the beautiful light blue dress crafted for her performance and makeup done, but the high heels she had to wear were on the floor next to the other end of the couch, as if the distance would make them hurt her feet any less later. Next to her, a bubbly redhead he recognised as Anna, one of Ariel’s former team members, was chatting away with whom he assumed was her fiancè. If he remembered right, Anna left the show a few weeks ago, when she duetted with the now semifinalist Merida.

After exchanging a few words with them, he moved on to the other end of the corridor, where he found Emma’s room. Like Elsa, she was already ready for the show, not that this time Emma had to spend ages in Costumes and Makeup since her outfit was more close to her style than usual, with boots, skinny jeans and a red shirt. She didn’t look as tense as Elsa was. On the contrary, she seemed pretty calm, laughing at something David had just said along with a petite brunette next to him he assumed was the famous Mary Margaret.

“Oh my God,” the woman sprawled on the couch shrieked, moving her sunglasses from her nose to the top of her head as she sat up.

At the noise Emma turned around to face the door and, when her eyes landed on him, she gave him a bright smile. “Killian,” she muttered, running up to him to throw herself into his arms.

“Hey Swan,” he chuckled in surprise, his nose nuzzling her soft gold locks and breathing in their sweet fruity scent, “Everything alright?”

“Yes, sorry. I’m just excited,” she said, reluctantly pulling away to face her friends. Ruby was still frozen sitting on the couch, whereas Mary Margaret was giving her a strange knowing look that made Emma blush. David instead could have easily been flashing death rays from his eyes at Killian if he were a superhero.

“Killian, this is Ruby,” Emma started, gesturing at her gobsmacked friend, “And this is Mary Margaret, the reason you didn’t die eating those muffin I brought for breakfast a few days ago, and David’s fianceè. Do you remember him right?”

“Of course I do, how could I forget?” Killian winked, making both Emma and Mary Margaret giggle.

“I could say the same thing,” David muttered unamusedly, earning himself a soft smack on the arm from his future wife.

“So Ruby,” Killian started, changing subject to make things less awkward, “Emma tells me you are a fan?”

Seeing Ruby pale at him talking with her, made a soft smile appear on his lips. He missed interacting with fans, especially those that like her turned all flustered all of a sudden at his mere presence. It was flattering, yes, which never hurt, overwhelming too, but it also gave meaning to what he did.  

“Yeah...I love you,” Ruby blurted out blushing, “I mean, I love your music.”

Killian smiled, “Thank you, love. That means a lot to me.”

Emma opened her mouth to say something when a voice, coming strong and loud from outside interrupted her, “Ten minutes to go! Everyone get ready!”

“I think that’s my queue. Sorry, love, I’ll see you later,” he announced with a sigh, kissing Emma briefly on the cheek and then turning as if nothing happened to face her friends, “It was a pleasure meeting you.”

“Killian wait!” Mary Margaret stopped him, “You should have dinner with us next week. I mean, if Emma gets to the final.”

“Of course, it’d be a pleasure,” he winked, watching with amusement at Emma’s dumbfounded and flushed face before exiting the room and heading to the door from which he’d have done his entrance.

Soon, cameras and mics were switched on and it was only when he sat on his chair, after Belle announced his name and he jogged through excited fans, that he truly relaxed.

Surprisingly, things went pretty smoothly and he soon found himself singing with Elsa. His was the last team of the night, meaning the first three finalists had already been announced. First was Merida, a Scottish woman with long ginger curls and an enchanting singing voice, for Ariel’s team; second Victor, a tall and slightly vampiresque surgeon with his bleached hair and a surprisingly deep and soothing voice, a member of Tink’s team; and third, for Robin’s team of course, Phillip, a bit of a rascal like Killian and, as far as he knew, pretty loved among all the contestants by a large portion of the audience.  

Although Elsa’s song was one of his favourites, he couldn’t wait to be over with it and sing with Emma. Luckily for him, it was only a few seconds later that, as the cheers of the audience for Elsa died down and Belle started presenting the last song of the night, stealing the cameras’ attention away from the centre stage, he saw Emma enter the arena already sitting on top of the piano as it was pushed towards him by two members of the crew. The lights then dimmed out, only leaving him under a single ray of white light as he started to play, Emma only a shadow in the dark. As soon as he started to sing, the little surprised shrieks from some of his fans in the audience died down, only to build up again a few moments later when, done with his verse, Emma started hers as she was illuminated by a second spotlight.

As they reached the refrain, Killian stopped playing and helped her down from the piano moments before their voices merged together for the refrain. If someone had asked him if a soft and clear voice like Emma’s would have sounded good with his before he met her, he would have been pretty doubtful. He would have been so wrong though because honestly, their harmonies mixed so well together that he was sure she had ruined him for any other future collaboration. But it wasn't just how their timbres sounded together that made their performance so exceptional, no. The emotion that they had been trying to find back again in the past few days was finally there and he swore they had never been more in sync.

_She's got lions in her heart_

_A fire in her soul he's a got a beast_

_In his belly that's so hard to control_

_Cause they've taken too much hits, taking blow by blow_

_Now light a match, stand back, watch them explode._

The nature of song had a big impact on their performance too. It was so perfectly fitting that it could have had easily been written for them. They were both kindred spirits, him and her, their souls hurt and battered by the unfairness of life.

They hadn't thought of a specific choreography to put onstage, if not for a few things like Emma's entrance, but no one really noticed. It was like they were reading each other's minds, predicting their moves.

As the song came to an end, Killian walked back to the piano, sitting on its stool to play the ending arpeggio. What he didn't notice though was that Emma followed him and positioned herself on the side of the piano with a Cheshire cat-like smile on her lips. Then, to his surprise, as his fingers flew up on the keyboard, she hit softly with a finger the last note for him. On his amused frown, the stage went black again as the audience cheered for them.

After giving her a tight hug, Killian run down the stage’s stairs to sit back on his red chair. As he was met with a bunch of compliments from his fellow coaches, Elsa, who had just come back on stage, hugged Emma before walking up to Belle.

“Wow, good job Emma and Elsa!” Belle exclaimed, “We already knew they were talented, but Killian, you and your girls were something else tonight.”

“What can I say, lass, we love to make an impression,” Killian smirked.

“I’m sure you do,” Belle laughed before turning serious all of a sudden when a girl came in to give her an envelope, “Now the time to laugh it up is over, though. As always, in this envelope there is the name of the one between you two that, thanks to the votes of the people watching us, will join the other finalists and get one step closer to fame and victory.”   

A tense silence fell in the theatre as Belle opened the envelope. In that moment all Killian wanted - and he was sure both Emma and Elsa did too - was to get over it and head backstage, but time seemed to stop flowing.

“And the last finalist of Enchanted for Killian Jones’ team is,” Belle announced, making a long pause for effect, “Emma Swan!”

* * *

Everything that happened after Belle shouted her name was a bit of a blur. Elsa must have hugged her, she was sure of it. She thought she tried to comfort her friend but she wasn’t exactly certain of it. Backstage Ruby and Mary Margaret basically had jumped on her shouting in her ears how amazing she had been and then it was David’s turn to hold her so tight that for a moment Emma didn’t feel the floor under her feet. Then everyone she met on the way to Costumes gave her a pat on the shoulder or just told her something, but honestly, she didn’t remember what any of them said. Except for Victor, who after saying his congratulations asked her if she could introduce him to her friend, “the one with red lips and beautiful long hair”.

 _Typical Ruby, winning strangers’ hearts_ , she thought, chuckling to herself.

She had just gotten back in her clothes, when Emma heard Killian calling after her, as she was walking in an empty corridor on her way to the studio’s hall, “Swan!”

Coming to a halt, she turned around coming face to face with Killian.

“You did it,” he spoke softly, looking almost _awed_.

“No,” Emma said as she took a step forward, reducing the distance between them, “we did it.”

Killian smiled. “I knew it would have been you, love.”

“Ssh!” She shushed him putting a finger on her lips and then teased him, “Don’t let anyone hear you saying that or they might think there’s something more between us.”

“And is there?” He asked sheepishly, bringing his hand up to scratch the back of his neck in that adorable tick of his. God, he was so adorable she wanted to kiss him. “You’ve been interrupted yesterday, rather rudely may I add,” he continued, “and then you said… So I was wondering…”

“I would love to, if you -”

She didn’t have the time to finish the sentence that his lips smashed against hers. Taking advantage of her surprised gasp, he kissed her hard, running his tongue over her lips. One of his hands fell to her hip, the other moving to her hair as he carefully pushed her against the wall. It was soft, it was passionate, it was messy, and it lit a fire in her belly. He gently bit her lip and she let out a soft moan, tugging the belt loops of his jeans to pull his body closer and arching her back. The feeling of his soft lips on hers and of his hard body against hers sent a shiver down her spine. For a moment, she was thankful for the wall against her back because if he hadn’t pushed her against it, she was sure her legs would have given out by then.

When her hand moved up on the back of his neck, scratching his scalp while passing her fingers through his hair, he moaned her name against her lips, for then leaving a trail of kisses down her neck, making her feel lightheaded.

“Killian?” She whimpered, still trying to catch her breath.

When the only answer she got was a soft hum where he was kissing her behind her ear, she tugged at his hair to make him look at her, even though her body screamed at her to let him do that again. She knew he was a hell of a kisser, but _this_ , this was borderline illegal. It was even better than the first kiss they shared what seemed like a lifetime ago. And that had been a fantastic kiss. If the man could kiss like that, she wondered what else he could do.

“I know it’s not exactly the moment,” she started, brushing away her last trail of thoughts. The task revealed to be impossible though, with the way his eyes were black from lust, his lips kiss swollen and his fingers drawing a pattern on her side where they had found their way up her shirt. ”And I know it sounds very fifth grade-ish but…” she continued, blushing at the craziness of the moment, “I like _like_ you.”

“Good,” he chuckled, kissing away the blush on her cheeks before meeting her eyes again, “Because I like _like_ you too, Emma.”

Smiling, Emma closed the distance between their lips and kissed him again. This time it was soft, gentle, but it still made her feel like she was flying.

They were so lost in each other, that they didn’t hear nor see the flash going off on the far end of the corridor from behind a corner.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emma and Killian’s song is, of course, the ultimate Captain Swan song aka Superheroes by The Script.
> 
> I am so sorry for the cliffhanger. Actually no I'm not eheh :)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves* Hello! I'm still on holiday yes but I managed to finish this chapeter and I just couln't wait 10 more days to update, but I know you won't complain! I won't say anyhting else about this chapter though. I'll just leave you to it and wait not so patiently for your reactions :)
> 
> Thanks to the wonderful and lovely Tessa for betaing this beast, as always, to all the CS Writers’ Hub ladies for all the sprints and brainstorming sessions.

Emma didn't know how much time had passed since she told her friends she would meet them at the studio’s hall, but judging by the silence that stretched along the corridors, everyone must’ve already gone home. Honestly, she felt so light and dizzy from all the kisses shared with Killian, she wasn’t even sure her feet actually touching the floor, nevermind going in the right direction. Her legs were moving on their own, all she could think about were the butterflies that she was sure wouldn’t stop flying around her stomach anytime soon, and how soft his lips felt against hers. She could still feel the burn of each of his kisses on her skin and the ghost of his touch upon her hips.

Eventually, she managed to get to the hall, only stopping for a second in front of the lift’s mirrored doors to fix her hair a little to not look like she had just been making out pinned up against a wall. After she was satisfied with the result, she headed towards what seemed like Mary Margaret sitting on a couch.

“Hey,” she said, wincing at how dazed and breathless she sounded.

At the sound of her voice Mary Margaret quickly stood up and turned around to face her. “Emma! You look a bit flushed, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” she brushed her off. “I'm sorry for making you wait so long but I met Killian on the way here and we... talked _,”_ she said hoping her friend wouldn't hear the lie that escaped her lips, “for quite a bit.”

The bright smile that Mary Margaret gave her when Emma mentioned Killian was so hopeful and knowing that clearly she had sensed that something was up. “Oh, it's okay,” she chirped, far too excited for Emma’s liking. There was no normal reason for her to be so ecstatic, especially after such a long day.

“Where's everyone?” Emma asked as they grabbed their things to leave the studio.

“Leroy called in sick so David had to go to the station for the night shift. Ruby instead met another finalist - Victor I think he was called. Anyway, they talked for a while and then, since you hadn't showed up yet, she accepted his offer to have a drink with him and left.”

“He really didn't need me to introduce him to her then,” she muttered amused as they walked in the chilly night up to her car, “Why didn't you get David bring you home? I mean I was nowhere to be seen and it was pretty late.”

“I could have yeah,” Mary Margaret started, “but then you would have been alone.”

“Thank you,” Emma smiled softly, reaching for her car keys, “Come on, hop in.”

After leaving Mary Margaret home, Emma headed back to her apartment, looking forward to collapse on the bed and sleep for as long as humanly possible. But truth be told, she could still feel the fire of excitement burning in her veins.

She had seen the looks her friend gave her both at the studios and during the drive back home, but honestly, she couldn't have cared less of what scenarios Mary Margaret was imagining in her head. Not tonight, no. Tonight she was just happy, and that's how she wanted to fall asleep, for once: _happy._ Happy for getting to the final, happy for fixing things with Killian, and possibly making them even better. And he was a fucking good kisser too. Unbelievably and unfairly so.

And with that thought, the memory of the comfort of his arms around her and of the way his kisses felt on her skin, she fell asleep, a big smile curving up her lips.

*    *    *

It wasn't early when Emma woke up with the sound of her phone vibrating on her night table, but according on her body, yes, it really was too early to function. Groaning, she reached for her phone keeping her eyes closed, only for then opening them and be blinded by the light of the screen. After giving a few moments for her sight to adjust, she saw on top of the notifications list a message from Killian just reading “Open the door ;)”. Suppressing a yawn, she got up and sleepily wobbled towards her apartment's door. Although her mind was still fuzzy for having been just woken up, she felt the excitement build up in a nice frizzy warmth in her stomach.

What was he up to? She hadn't heard either the buzz of the intercom nor the soft thuds of someone knocking at the door. Either she had been sound asleep, or he simply didn't do either of those things. Was he waiting for her behind that door? Or did he maybe just leave her something on the threshold to find?

All her questions were answered when, opening the door, she found the corridor completely empty. Or so she thought until she lowered her gaze. On the floor there was a coffee cup next to a light brownish bag with a post-it attached on it and a single red rose balanced on top. Smiling, Emma crouched down and took a better look. The cup was still pretty warm, meaning she must have missed him only for a few minutes. Moving the rose aside, she picked up the drink and took a sip of what surprisingly (or maybe not) she found it out being her favourite latte. After putting the cup back down, she then moved to inspect the bag. First she took a quick peek inside, finding a huge bearclaw waiting for her, and then she took a better look at the bright yellow post-it stuck on it. Carefully, she peeled it off and picked up the rose, bringing it to her nose as she read. On the small post-it, written with a sharpie in that unfairly elegant handwriting of his, there was just a simple sentence, the black ink standing out against the yellow paper, saying:

_Good morning, love!_

_\- KJ_

If someone had to walk out of their apartment in that exact moment, they would have found her sitting on her heels on the threshold smiling like a loon. But honestly, she couldn't care less. That was probably the nicest and sweetest thing someone, even just potentially, romantically involved with her had ever done. No, scratch that. It _was_ the nicest and sweetest thing _anyone_ had ever done for her.

Picking everything up, she stood up and kicked the door closed behind her. After putting the rose in a vase and eating her breakfast, she dialed quickly Killian’s number on her phone. She held it against her hear, not so patiently waiting for him to answer.

“Hello, love,” Killian’s soft voice ringed in her ears only moments later.

“Hey,” she said softly, and then babbled, “I just, you know, wanted to thank you for the coffee. And the bearclaw… And the rose.”

Killian giggled quietly. “It was my pleasure,” he said, “After all, if I couldn't take you out for dinner tonight because of this stupid meeting Regina demanded me to go to, the least I could do was to - hopefully - make your day a little better by offering you caffeine, sugar and a flower.”

“Are you asking me out for dinner?” Emma laughed.

“And if I were? What would you say?” He asked so tentatively that she could basically hear him scratch the back of his neck, “Just, you know -”

Emma smiled widely as he talked. “I'd say I'd love to,” she interrupted him.

“Oh good. You are in luck then, my lady, because I already know the perfect place for our second date.”

“Second?” Emma frowned.

“Of course,” he hummed in amusement, “I'm sure your friend Mrs Nolan has already planned out our first one for tomorrow evening. Too bad Ruby and David will be there too…”

Emma chuckled. “First, she isn't technically Mrs. Nolan yet,” she started, “And second, for as much as I think she would like that, I don't think that was in her plans. So, I'm sorry buddy, but it seems like you still have to organize an impressive first date, since you were so adamant to.”

“Oh, Swan,” he replied, his voice dropping by an octave, sending a shiver down her spine, “you will be _impressed_ indeed.”

*    *    *

As soon as Emma stepped inside her friends’ apartment it was clear Mary Margaret had outdone herself. Apparently the prospect of having a worldwide famous celebrity dining with them had put both her and Ruby in a frenzy. On the table there were a couple of candles Emma swore she had never seen before, not even at Christmas or New Year's Eve, which created a nice contrast between lights and shadows on the light green spread. The smells coming from the kitchen, where the plates of food were piling up on the counter, were delicious. And judging from what was resting on the small coffee table, Ruby must had nagged her gran until she let her bring some appetizers from the diner. Everyone was also more dressed up than usual. Even David had put on one of his famous plaid shirts to go on with his dark washed jeans instead of a more comfortable t-shirt.

As expected, Killian knocked at the (soon-to-be) Nolan’s door at seven sharp, with a bottle of wine in hand. If Ruby hadn't been so anxious about showing up late and if Emma didn't have to walk there earlier to calm everyone down, he would have definitely been the first to arrive. Seeing the color leaving Ruby’s face, Emma was the first to greet him. He was just wearing jeans a blue shirt whose first two buttons were of course left open, but damn did he look good. That shirt really did enhance the color of his eyes which had never looked bluer, but they also had never looked so nervous before. He had admitted to her the previous night that he was a bit afraid her friends wouldn't like him, and even though she consciously knew there wouldn't be such a problem, as she told him multiple times, she couldn't help worrying about the whole thing herself too.

“Hello, love,” he said sheepishly. He looked so cute that she wanted to kiss all of his worries away, but she couldn't because they had decided to wait to tell their friends. Hell, they didn't even know what they were doing, except that they kissed and were soon going on a date, what would possibly be there to tell? Anyway, pretending nothing ever happened was probably for the best, considering that everyone except Emma felt obviously weird about having dinner with Killian Jones.

After the beginning awkwardness and long silences Emma at first, and then Mary Margaret, tried to break with small talk, they sat down at the table, with Killian sandwiched between a no more trembling Ruby and Emma.

“So, Killian,” Mary Margaret started, passing the meat to her fiancé, “I'd ask what you do but…”

“Yeah that's not a question I frequently get asked,” he chuckled, “But again, aside from interviews most of the time I just get ‘Can I have a picture with you?’ or ‘Could I get an autograph?’”

“Not everyone falls for your charms, though,” Emma observed with a smug smile on her lips.

“What can I say? You were an exception, Swan. But it looks like you are quite fond of me now,” he said wiggling his eyebrows as he passed her some vegetables.

Emma glanced at him, as if to give him a warning but then something switched when he just looked at her back with both playfulness and softness written in his eyes, and her lips curved up in a gentle smile.

“That I am.”

They were so engrossed in each other for a few seconds, that none of them noticed the curious look Ruby shared with Mary Margaret.

“Do you ever get used to people recognising you everywhere?” Mary Margaret’s voice startled them.

“Oh. Uhm,” Killian hesitated, sending a brief glance in apologise at Emma again before answering, “You never really get used to it, but it gets easier with time.”

“You sound British,” David commented, giving him the very same look Emma had seen on his face whenever she assisted at one of his interrogations. “How come you moved all the way here?”

“David…” Mary Margaret started, putting her hand on his tight as if to tell him to shut up.

She must had noticed that the question had made Killian more than uneasy, just like Emma who, at the sound of the air catching in his throat, straightened her back, tense. She had never thought of asking him why he moved to America. Actually, she had never asked him about his life before fame and then Milah at all. She just knew that life had never been easy on him, but that was it.

“My mother died that I was just a child,” Killian said after taking a deep breath, “My father started drinking, leaving me and my brother alone. One day, he just left us, out of the blue. Luckily Liam was old enough take me in custody at the time. Soon after I finished college, though, I realised that I had nothing left there in Ireland. I packed my things and moved across the ocean.”

An uncomfortable silence followed. By the time he had finished talking, Killian’s voice didn't sound as fazed as it was at the beginning, but his hand was clenched so tight in a fist under the table that his knuckles had turned white. Emma was sure there was more to the story, but now was not the time to ask. Although, she couldn't help but being a tiny bit upset by the fact that he kept hidden from her such a huge part of his life.

“I'm sorry,” Ruby spoke first, “That must have been tough. Don't you miss Liam, though?”

Emma internally cringed as she saw Killian emptying what little was left of wine in his glass in a gulp before replying.

“I do. Very much.”

The way his voice broke made an alarm going off in Emma’s head. How much she could be hurt or angry didn't matter anymore. The last time she'd heard him like this was moments before he told her what happened to Milah. A more optimistic part of her hoped that his brother would still be in the UK, alive, maybe married, with 2.5 children and living in a white picket fence house, but deep down she knew that wasn't the case, that that small part of her would be soon disillusioned.

“I bet he's proud of you,” Mary Margaret chimed in, not knowing that Emma was cursing at her in her head from the other side of the table, “Isn't he?”

“I don't know. He died many years ago.”

And that was it. The terrible truth no one was expecting apart from Emma was out, bringing with it a second, long, uncomfortable silence. Were they alone, she would have hold him, but they weren't, and they were also trying to be discreet about their relationship, whatever were it be. So, Emma reached for the hand on his tight, still closed in a fist, and squeezed it willing his eyes to meet hers. As soon as he lifted his gaze, she gave him a tight lipped smile, hoping he would understand that it was her way to tell him she was sorry and she’d be there for him, no matter what.

Giving her a small smile, he squeezed her hand back and then turned to the others, finally breaking the silence by casually changing subject, “Anyway, I know very little of how you guys met from what Emma told me so I'd like to hear the story from you.”

Getting his intent, Ruby started talking right away, soon joined by both Mary Margaret and David.

The rest of the night passed quickly without any other accidents. With time and alcohol (well, mostly alcohol) Ruby eased up and started being her usual self. David instead stopped giving Killian such an hard time, probably feeling guilty about bringing up the subject of his childhood earlier.

The only one who acted strangely was Emma. Sometimes during the conversation she would zone out and she had never really relaxed after the revelation, her posture stiff and tense. She didn't want to feel like this, but she did. It hurt more than she thought the fact that Killian shared so much of his past with a couple of strangers, but didn't confide in her. She had told him everything - well, mostly everything. Why didn't he tell her his story? Was it because he didn't trust her enough? Or was it just because that night she told him about her childhood she jumped on him before he could say anything? Whatever his reason was, she could feel his gaze burning on her skin for the rest of the evening.

By the time they had to get home, outside it was pouring down rain. Because of course the only time she walked to David and Mary Margaret, without bringing an umbrella, it had to rain so much that she had to accept Killian’s offer to accompany her home. Not that she didn't want to spend some time alone with him, but she still was upset about what happened.

For the whole time they just stayed in silence, focusing on the road and listening to the regular patting of the rain against the car. Then, when he stopped right in front of her apartment building's door, Killian broke the silence.

“I'm sorry,” he said, watching a surprised frown appear on Emma’s face.

A question was already forming on her lips, but he interrupted her before she could make a sound. “I'm sorry,” he repeated, “You shouldn't have had to find out about Liam like this. I have wanted to tell you for a while but I couldn't find neither the courage nor the right time to bring it up.”

Emma just stared at him, too stunned to reassure him everything will be alright.

“I know you’re upset, I can tell, and you have every right to be. But I just -”

“Hey, it's okay,” she reassured him, stroking his arm gently, “You’re right. I am a bit upset. I couldn't help worry you didn't trust me enough to tell me, but there's nothing to forgive. I can imagine how hard it might be to share something like that.”

“Of course I trust you, Emma,” he said almost offended by the thought, tucking a stray lock that escaped her ponytail behind her ear before caressing softly her cheek with a couple of fingers. “I lo - you are…” he whispered, luckily too quietly for Emma to notice his slip. “You are my person, Emma.”

“I know,” she breathed out, feeling the butterflies coming back to life in her stomach, “I'll tell you what. If you are up to, you can tell me about Liam on our date. But if you don't want to it'll be for another time, no hard feelings. What do you say?”

Killian looked at her in disbelief. “You still want to go on a date with me?”

“Yeah. I was promised a hell of a date, after all. How could I say no to that?”

“Honestly, knowing what's in store for you on Thursday night, I wouldn't know,” Killian teased her back.

Emma closed the space between them, a set of matching grins still on their lips. “Thank you for the lift,” she uttered, her lips barely touching his.

“It was a pleasure.”

Emma smiled softly before pressing gently her lips on his in a small peck. “Goodnight, Killian.”

“Goodnight, love,” he whispered as he watched Emma get out of the car, closing the door behind her and rushing inside the building.

*    *    *

Emma had just finished stuffing things inside her clutch when Killian knocked at her door.

She had been freaking out about what to wear for days ( _yeah I really am ridiculous, I know_ ). But she couldn't help it, she was far too excited to keep her cool. The cryptic message Killian sent her that morning hadn't been helpful either. He just told her to wear something comfy and warm, but he didn't want to tell her where he would take her, no matter what. So, still wanting to dress to impress, she put on a red plaid short dress she once bought during sales only to leave it in the wardrobe for ages, with black tights and her favourite lace up heeled boots.

Apparently neither of them were ready when she opened the door, though. Killian just openly gasped as his eyes took her in, mouth hanging slightly open, whereas Emma’s breath caught in her throat as her cheeks turned pink under his gaze. He wore those black skinny jeans that Emma knew did wonders to his bottom, a matching black vest on top of a shirt, masterly left unbuttoned to show necklace and little chest hair and a leather jacket to complete the outfit.

“You look…” He breathed out, stunned.

Emma smiled smugly. “I know. You too.”

Killian flashed her a knowing grin. “Shall we go?”

Emma nodded and followed him to the lift and then to his car, where he held the door for her to get in ( _“I'm always a gentleman, love”_ ).

“Now will you tell me where are we going?” she asked him again for the umpteenth time in the last forty-eight hours, but he just smiled and told her to wait and see.

He took her to a small deserted beach. He spread out a blanket on the shore on top of which he put the picnic basket he had prepared. As the sun disappeared behind the horizon, they sat on the blanket, putting their shoes aside and ate, the sound of the waves breaking the shore the only thing they could hear aside their voices.

“Did you make all of this? Because those small quiches are amazing.” Emma asked before taking a bite of an onion ring.

“I - Yes, just the mini quiches and sandwiches,” he blushed, “I know how much you love onion rings and spring rolls but I assumed it was better for me to buy them.”

“Ugh, this so not fair!” Emma whined, “You sing, you cook...Seriously is there anything you can't do?”

Killian laughed and winked at her. “Why, love, wouldn't you like to find out exactly all the _things_ I can do?”

“Perhaps I would,” she teased him, licking her lips.

When Killian grunted her name in warning, Emma giggled.

“Anyway, where did you learn how to cook?”

Killian set his plate aside and laid down. Sensing that it was somehow connected to what she had found out the other night, she mimicked him, moving basket and plates away so that she could lay next to him. They watched the stars beginning to appear in the darkening sky for a while, letting the sound of the ocean lull them.

“After my mother passed away, my father started drinking, as you know. He was never home, and when he was, we soon learned not to cross him whatsoever. Liam was barely sixteen at the time, and he already had to take care of his little brother. There was so much he could cook, though, so I soon had to learn to. As it happens, I managed to make something more than edible and different from the usual frozen meals pretty soon, so keeping us well fed became my priority at home,” he said keeping his eyes fixed on the sky above them.

Not wanting to interrupt him, Emma nuzzled closer to his body and let him continue.

“After our father abandoned us, cooking became for me a way to thank Liam for everything he had done and still was doing for me. So I started experimenting, wanting to be better for him. My childhood superhero was my brother,” he laughed quietly, “What kind of teenager would say that?”

“A wise one who had to grow up too fast. And maybe one who hadn't read enough ironman comics,” Emma muttered, lighting up when she noticed a small smile curving up his lips, softening the hard lines that had fallen on his face.

“True,” he chuckled, but his face fell again when he continued, just a little though, “I was more into music back then, and when I finally got into college I didn't have much free time for superheroes. Liam had joined the Navy that year, and so to get by and pay the bills, I started working in a bar. Sometimes, though, the money I'd get wasn't enough, so on my free nights, I would still get to work and sing there. And it worked. That is, until I finished my studies. A few months after getting my degree, in fact, I got a call in the middle of the night saying that they were so sorry but my brother died in action trying to save - and succeeding in doing so - the life of another officer.

“I packed everything and left for America a few weeks later. I was a mess. A part time barista, part time dockworker and singer wannabe in order to pay the rent for the dump I called home, who spent the free time he had watching TV and getting drunk. And that's how Regina found me and made me who I am now,” he concluded with a shudder.

Emma was speechless. For the little that he had shared a few days ago she knew he had had a rough childhood, but she didn't think it would have been so bad. They were quite the pair.

“I'm sorry,” she said gently, bringing her hand up on his heart and resting her head on his shoulder, “You shouldn't have had to go through all of that.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, his voice resounding right in her ear but also so far away, “No one should. You included.”

They stayed like that, laying on the beach surrounded by the stillness of nature for what felt like hours.

“Did you know that Liam taught me to sail?” Killian asked, breaking the silence first, “I should take you sometime. If you want to, of course.”

“I'd love that,” Emma nodded against his chest, “I've always loved the sea. It's so calming.”

“Me too,” he agreed, “Looking at the stars too. It has always made me feel the very same drop in the stomach you can feel before going onstage.”

“That doesn't feel very pleasant.”

Killian chuckled. “It can be unpleasant that's true, but it isn't when it's just the pure anticipation and excitement of the unknown. Like look,” he said pointing at a spot over their heads, “You see that big cross those five stars make in the sky? That's the Swan, the Cygnus constellation. You see that lighter line in the sky passing through it? That's a ray of the Milky Way. Millions and millions of stars, shining above us. Endless possibilities.”

Emma’s gaze followed his finger and listened to his voice, as she got lost the the beauty above her. “You are a nerdy weirdo,” she laughed when he stopped babbling.

“Aye,” he smiled, tilting her chin up to face him, their lips so close they could feel each other's breath on their skin, “But you love me for it.”

Emma’s lips met his instantly, and so they stayed, sharing a gentle, time-stopping kiss by the ocean.

*    *    *

That was it. The day of the final had come. Killian couldn't believe in a few hours everything would be over. After all, he had fun doing this show. However, he was most of all excited to see Emma’s reaction at the surprise she didn't know he had for her. It had taken a lot of convincing from his part for making it possible to happen and now all he needed was Emma’s consent to give it the green light.

He was backstage, all dressed in leather and wearing eyeliner like the swashbuckling pirate he had to interpret tonight, waiting with Emma to be called onstage for their (hopefully not) last performance together and of this first part of the night. He quickly glanced at her to check for any sign of distress, but he found none. She was frowning in concentration and she was nervously playing with her nails, but aside from that she seemed pretty calm and relaxed. Good, that was good. It seemed like he probably was more nervous than her.

Hearing Belle’s voice starting to resound back again inside the arena, Killian took Emma’s hand in his and left a kiss on her forehead before walking onstage as soon as they heard their names being announced.

They entered the theater in the dark, reaching their position on the opposite ends of the stage following the small fluorescent dots on the floor. Moments later, the music started playing and Emma’s voice resounded in the room as a spotlight illuminated her. She walked around the left side of the stage in a tentative dance, her steps quiet, skin on the dark stage, and her long white dress flowing in the air.

She was ethereal. A fairytale princess, alone, wandering in search of her long lost lover. Said lover being a pirate, in particular, who as his princess, never stopped trying to find her back again. That was the story they were trying to tell.

As the refrain approached, she reached a rope falling from the roof and she slowly began swinging around him. Once the refrain came to an end, she sat on the floor cueing the light to illuminate the other part of the stage as Killian started to sing.

He was up on a ship’s deck, at the helm, steering and searching around, looking for his Swan princess. When he finally saw her, he rushed to reach her.

 _You leave me room for my imperfections_ __  
_When I'm a mess then you jump right in_ __  
_If I drift in the wrong direction_  
_You turn the tide and you calm the wind_

After the two lovers found each other back again, the song came to an end, lights fading to black as Emma and Killian were lost in a tight embrace. As the audience cheered for them, Killian took advantage of the darkness to leave a kiss on the top of Emma’s head before letting Belle take the control of the stage and show.

The wait was excruciating. The boy band that sang right after them to let people send their votes, definitely made all the girls in the audience go wild, but Killian had never been very fond of those guys. It felt like ages when, finally, they exited the stage to leave the space for Belle, followed by Emma, Merida, Phillip and Victor.

After putting a stop to the voting, Belle said, “I know you guys must be really nervous right now, so I'm not going to ask you to talk if you don't want to, but I can definitely bug your coaches. Is there anything you want to say to your pupils?”

“I do,” Ariel started, “I was talking with Tink before when the talented artists backstage were getting our makeup done, and we both agreed that when we decided to take this job, we never thought we would find such talented singers. These guys here are definitely much better than we were when we started.”

“You are being humble Ariel,” Robin chimed in with a smile, “What she's trying to say, though, and I think we all agree on, is that no matter what this first stint of votes decides, no matter who the two of you who will battle for the victory later tonight will be, all of you should be proud of what you have achieved. You are all winners tonight.”

A round of applause followed Robin’s words. As it died down Belle asked, looking at Tink and Killian, “Do you want to add anything?”

Killian glanced Tink, wanting to let her go first in case. When she shaked her head, Killian spoke up, glancing tentatively at the envelope that Belle had just received, “Actually yes, I have a little something I wanted to tell Emma before getting any results, if we have time.”

“Please, do.”

“You know I think you are a bloody talented singer, Swan. I probably should have reminded you that more often, that's true, but I really do think you are exceptional no matter what will be written inside that envelope,” he said, taking a deep breath before continuing, “And that's the reason I wanted to tell you that, if you are up to, there are a couple of songs in the new album I am currently writing that would sound great in your voice.”

The audience screeched. His friends sitting next to him looked at him as if he had just grown another head, except Tink, whose expression clearly said “I told you so”. But he didn't care. All he cared about was Emma, and the way her face changed from the initial confusion to pure shock.

“I - I don't know what to say,” she stuttered as her eyes watered with tears she didn't want to cry, “Thank you.”

“Oh, come here,” he said softly, standing up and running up on the stage to hug her.

Emma embraced him tightly, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. “I just…,” she started, but no more words would leave her mouth.

“I know.”

By the time Killian went back to his chair, the excitement had died down, only to be replaced by a tense silence. Belle slowly opened the envelope in her hand and glanced at what was written on it with an enviable poker face.

“Merida Dunbrooke,” she said after a theatrical long pause, “I'm sorry, but your adventure on Enchanted finishes here.”

After quick hugs and kisses were shared, silence fell back again as everyone anxiously waited to know who would really get a chance to win later on that night.

“And the last finalist, who unfortunately has to leave the competition is,” Belle announced,stopping to take another nerve wracking pause in the sake of suspense.

 _Seriously, damn her and whoever told her to do this_ , Killian nervously thought. He was quite sure Emma would win the competition, but all the waiting was making him doubt of his hunch.

Finally, Belle lifted her gaze to the camera and finally voiced those last two words. “Emma Swan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emma and Killian's song for this chapter is You Will Find Me by Alex and Sierra.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a while for this chapter I’m sorry, but I was really struggling writing it. Anyway, I hope you like it!  
> Thanks to the wonderful Tessa her mad betaing skills and to Clare for being always so lovely and listening to my rants when I freak out. 
> 
> (In this chapter there will be some heavy flirting and so mild sexytimes they are basically nonexisting. In my opinion, since there won't likely anything as "smutty" as this in the last few chapter of this story and because of the nature of those couple of scenes in this chapter, I'll be leaving the rating as T unless more than just someone asks me to change it. If it's not your cup of tea just skip a few paragraphs, but in any case you've all been warned.)

Well, that was it. She lost.

Months had passed since the finale of Enchanted, but Emma could still vividly remember how she felt that night. The excitement, the adrenaline running in her veins knowing what a good job she and Killian had done, the stupor when those life changing words left Killian’s lips and finally the shock when Belle called her name: they were all impressed in her memory. She didn’t cry, not in front of the cameras, anyway. No, the tears came later, when she was safe in Killian’s arms, away from prying eyes. Tears of disappointment, mostly, that spilled out of her eyes without permission, which then soon turned into something much different and sweeter when she accepted his offer to work with him.

Phillip had won the competition, to her surprise. It’s not that she thought he wasn’t a good singer, because he was. She just had been a bit bitter since, according to her, and to Killian too, even though he wouldn’t voice it at the time, his and Robin’s performance couldn’t hold a candle to theirs. They had sung and interpreted the role perfectly, and the audience response showed that. Well, not that it had been hard for them to get into the character’s mindset. They were lovers and she and Killian had been  _something_  already.

_Something_ … She couldn’t say it was love back then. Hell, she wasn't even certain she could say it was love now, after months being together. Not out loud, anyway. But if this wasn’t love, then Emma didn’t know what to call it.

News flash: Emma Swan had fallen for the swoon worthy, fan (and everyone, really) favourite, Killian Jones. But maybe that wasn’t such a shocking news anymore.

With Killian’s live announcement of a new album and of a possible collaboration with her, finding a way to keep their relationship a secret and their private life private had been a challenge. A few rumors did spread now and then, but they were soon overshadowed by the buzz for the music itself, especially for their single, and eventually forgotten. Not that anyone except Regina had many hints about what they were working on, anyway. Killian had teased something in many interviews regarding his album, but for their single they mostly stayed tight lipped. Only thing they would reply to anyone that asked was “We can tell you this: it’ll be so fun! And a little risque and sexy too. What's not to love in that?”.

There weren’t many ways in which they could describe it, really. It was indeed going to be a bit racy, but it had been a conscious choice. She and Killian wrote both the lyrics and music together, wanting to base the story on personal experiences, on how they used to be. It was no secret Killian had enjoyed the pleasures of alcohol and one night stands. Emma, with a friend like Ruby and the job she had, followed that path too, more than once, either for fun or business. But honestly, the main thing in their mind the night they came up with the idea was, aside from fetching some more beer from the fridge, the fun they knew they would have filming and recording it.

Breathing out a sigh, Emma pressed ‘send’ to the email she had been writing while waiting for Killian to finish talking with Regina about work, before stuffing her phone in her bag. She was basically living with him by now: some of her clothes had found their place beside his in the wardrobe upstairs, and there was a toothbrush,  _her_  toothbrush, next to his in the ensuite, just like her shampoo and bodywash were resting in the shower. She was spending more days at her boyfriend’s house in a week than she did at her apartment, only staying there when her job as a bail bondsperson required it, and she still hadn’t told him about her son, the child she gave up a decade ago and with whom she had been having an illegal email correspondence with him for over a year. Well, it wasn’t strictly illegal if he was the one that first contacted her and he didn’t know anything about her except that her name was Emma, was it? Anyway, she was going to tell him soon ( _or soon-ish_ ). Possibly that night ( _or not_ ).

Emma swallowed a groan.

It wasn’t her fault ( _well, actually it is your fault_ ). She had tried to tell him. She really did, more than once, but every single time she’d found the words unwilling to leave her mouth. Truth was that she was afraid. Afraid of his reaction, of him seeing her differently, of having fucked up everything.

“Ready to go, love?” Killian’s voice took her away from her thoughts.

Emma stared at his extended hand for a couple of seconds more than normal before taking it with a nod, letting him help her up from the couch. Picking up the bag from the floor, they went outside, where, as Emma locked the front door, Killian loaded the car.

They set off to the harbour soon after. They were going to spend the night on board of his ship after dropping the anchor in what Killian said was the perfect spot to see the Perseids’ meteor shower. He had insisted on bringing her sailing once he found out she had only ever seen a falling star once. And well, how could she say no to a romantic date stargazing on a boat? She couldn’t of course, not when she actually wanted to go. And definitely not when, after she had explained him the reason behind it, he had cradled her face and covered her face with kisses as he whispered how much she mattered to him.

It was a few nights before the Swans gave her away that she saw the first, and only, shooting star of her life, sitting in the backyard to look at the sky before going to bed. She had closed her eyes, like in the stories her father used to tell her, and made a wish. She wished to never go back the horrible place she had vague memories of living in. But of course, that didn’t happen. She had learned how to deal with it now, but as a child, it stung.

It didn’t take long for them to get to the harbour and, in what seemed like no time at all, they were sailing away from port. Killian drew the boat offshore, moving smoothly on the deck and letting Emma steer whenever she wanted to.

She would never forget the first time he brought her on the Jolly (yes, the nerd had called his boat Jolly Roger, which was cute and everything, but Emma was sure that was the reason everyone called him “pirate” or “the captain”). It hadn’t been much time after finishing up working on the show, actually. It was a beautiful sunny day, perfect for sailing according to her boyfriend. She didn’t know much, if anything at all about sailing back then - not that she was an expert now, mind you - but after all, she had never been on a boat in her whole life. And to Killian’s delight, she absolutely loved it. The sound of the waves rippling against the hard wood of the boat, water sloshing quietly, the wind blowing in her hair, sails flapping and hooks tinkling along with it: it had a calming effect her. Or at least, that was until Killian put her hands on the wheel and moved behind her. In that moment, with his hard body flush on hers, his hands on top of hers guiding her movements and head resting on her shoulder, she was sure her heart had skipped a beat or two.  

They sailed until sunset, dropping anchor only when the first stars started to shine and the lights of the city were only small bright dots in the distance. As darkness fell around them, they sat on the deck, nudging close to bundle themselves up in a blanket and lifting their chins up at the sky.

“Regina said we can start recording on Monday,” Killian said as they watched the stars appear in the sky one by one.

At hearing that, Emma couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” he smiled softly. “Apparently she has already started looking for a director for the video too.”

Emma sighed and lowered her gaze to him. “I can’t wait,” she grinned and looked back up at the sky.

They stayed like that for a while, letting the sound and the gentle rocking of the water lull them. “You know,” Killian started, breaking the comfortable silence that fell upon them, “I realised I’ve never told you why I was such a git when we first met.”

“It doesn’t matter. I forgave you a long time ago,” she muttered softly.

“But it does,” he insisted. “The song you sang at the auditions, Flares, I used to listen to it over and over. It gave me strength after my brother died, after Milah died. When I heard your voice, I could hear the pain and all the emotion you were trying so hard to hide. That’s what most of all made me press that button. But the others didn’t hear any of that, no one of them did. Robin asked me if I was sure I wasn’t just projecting my feelings, when I got back onstage after talking to you. And that was enough to plant doubt in my head. I was just scared that connection I felt when I heard your voice was the product of my imagination, that you had tricked me like Milah did.”

“And what about now?” Emma asked softly, bringing her eyes to meet his once again.

“Now I’m not scared anymore, love. And it’s all thanks to you. You showed me you are not her, that you are just you: Emma Swan. And that’s who I’ll always want you to be.”

Emma took a shaky breath. “And the song? Do you still listen to it often?”

“I do. But the memories attached to it aren’t about grief and sleepless nights anymore,” he said, bringing a hand up to caress her cheek, “They are something much sweeter now.”

Smiling, Emma closed the distance between them, capturing his lips in a sweet kiss. When a few moments later she tried to pull away, Killian laid down, gently pushing Emma with him while leaving small kisses on her lips and down her neck.

“Killian,” she giggled, passing her hand up and down through his hair, “Shouldn’t we be watching the stars?”

Killian growled on her skin, leaving another kiss behind her ear. “Oh, I could make you see stars.”

“Down tiger,” Emma laughed, putting a hand on his stomach to push him down. With a muffled “oof”, Killian fell next to her as she turned on her side to then rest her head on his chest, moving her leg in between his. “We’ll have plenty of time for that later,” she said, mindlessly drawing circles down his stomach, and smiled at hearing Killian’s broken exhale.

“Did you see that?” Emma exclaimed, stopping her hand right above the button of his jeans to point where a meteor had crossed the sky.

“I did,” he nodded, swallowing a groan, his voice deep and a bit short of breath. “Did you make a wish?” Emma nudged closer, humming softly on his chest. “And what did you wish for?”

_To have the courage to say those three little words out loud_ , she thought.

Emma bit her lip to not let that thought slip out. “If I tell you it’d never become true,” she said innocently making him chuckle. “Did you? Make a wish, I mean.”

“No. I have all I could ever wish for.”

Killian left a kiss at the top of her head, as a big smile spread out on Emma’s burning hot face at his words. Then, as a second bright white line of light shoot through the sky, they lifted their noses up at the beautiful spectacle above them.

*       *      *

Considering how these kind of things go, recording was fun and it went smoothly. Choosing a director for the video, however, wasn’t. With all the attention he had drawn on themselves by offering Emma to work with him live on television, Regina had drawn up quite a list of directors. Robin had helped her too, suggesting a few names of friends he had made by being in the business much longer. According to Emma there was something between his friend and his manager, but Killian didn’t believe it. Honestly, he didn’t even want to think of them in that way. It felt just weird. Maybe that’s why it took so long for David to warm up to him. True, he didn’t have a good reputation at the time they met, so that might have made David a little more wary towards him, whereas he didn’t have to worry about that so he wasn’t sure he could really relate. Robin and Regina were like brother and sister to him, but they were good people. Okay, Regina could be scary at times, but that’s what made her a good manager and a good mother. But her and Robin... Nope, Emma must be mistaken. There was no way they could be together.

Anyway, in the end it was one of the directors Robin had suggested that got the job. His name was August Booth, one of the most famous and respected directors in the industry, and he was the only one that had managed to convince both him and Emma right away. They had met every person on that list, listening to their ideas for the story of the video, but only August really did win them over.

His idea was simple, but genius. Killian’s interpretation would play a man, heartbroken after a bad break up and headset into not getting involved with anyone anytime soon. Emma, instead, would be a beautiful but lonely woman, hurt by love over and over but still hopeful she'd find it one day. They would meet at a pub, bumping on each other as he was spending the night with friends. They would hit it off right away and, after dancing for a bit, they’d sneak out and kiss in an alley. She would follow him home, but the only thing left of her the next day would be a post-it with her name and number scribbled on it beside his head. Then, the viewer would follow them during their first date, as they chatted along, took a walk in a park up to when he would accompany her to her house’s door. There, she would kiss him sweetly before shutting the door on his face, only for then opening it again and dragging him inside by the lapels of his shirt. Once the door closed again, we would go back to the night they met, right after bumping into each other where, instead of moving to the dance floor, their lips would meet in a kiss.

It was the perfect story for their song. It contrasted the cheekiness of the lyrics wonderfully, but just enough to not get in conflict with it. It was an happy medium.

When she heard the plot, Ruby was more than happy to offer The Rabbit Hole, the bar her Gran bought years ago and recently left to her to manage, as a location. Luckily for her, Booth liked it and accepted her offer. The girl positively screamed when they told her.

Last time Killian had seen her that excited was when he and Emma decided not to hide their feelings from their friends anymore. That time she literally jumped on Emma, screaming, before groaning in defeat and pass twenty bucks to Mary Margaret who was looking smugly at them. Belle, Ariel, Tink and Robin instead didn't seem shocked by it, claiming they had suspected there was something between them from even before the show had ended. Whereas they seemed happy and not too hard on Emma when they gave her the “don’t hurt my friend” speech, David didn’t take the news as well as they did. He really did look like he was ready to chop one or both his hands off so that Killian wouldn’t put them anywhere near Emma, no kidding. At least it seemed like it was all water under the bridge now.

It took a few days to start shooting. Emma was bouncing with excitement on the first day, much like everyone else, but he could see in her eyes and posture that she was nervous. Killian had been nervous too, especially because he wasn’t really looking forward to have Emma grinding against him on the dance floor in a room full of people, among which there was David, who just like Ruby and Mary Margaret had asked to play as an extra. But there was more. She wasn't just nervous, there was something that was bothering her, he could tell. He didn't even have the time to open his mouth and ask her what was wrong, that August barked at everyone to get ready to shoot.

For the first few hours, the only thing Killian had to do was enter the bar with his friends, sit at a table, and drink shots of disgusting flavoured and coloured water, instead of proper alcohol. Even the beer was not real beer. The beer! As if they would get wasted with a bottle of beer drank in the timeframe of hours. Emma instead, was having a far better time, sitting on a stool and sipping a (Virgin, for sure) Cuba Libre from a straw while chatting with Ruby.

According to the script, that was when he would notice her, but it wasn’t specified how. For the first couple of takes, he initiated it, glancing back at the counter and meeting her eyes. Then Emma grew bolder. She started with smiling seductively at him while sipping her drink as soon as his eyes would find her, but then their roles inverted. Feeling her gaze burning a hole in the back of his neck he turned around, just in time to see her tongue darting out to bring the straw into her mouth before smiling slyly at him.

“CUT!” August shouted when David almost choked on his drink making everyone laugh.

After giving a friendly pat on David’s back, Killian walked up to Emma. “You little minx,” he grinned, absentmindedly licking his lips.

“Me?” Emma asked innocently, tugging at the belt loops of his jeans to bring him closer. She then tilted her head, lifted herself up on the tip of her toes and whispered in his ear, “I'm just lifting up the mood for later.”

Killian hummed in her ear as he pulled her hips against him to make her feel what she was doing to him. Emma let out a breathy whimper and brought her lips down to sneakily leave a kiss on his pulse point.

“Lovebirds!” August called out before her lips could touch Killian’s skin, “Leave that for the dance floor and get back in position. I want you to recreate what you did in the last take once again and if no one interrupts again I want you to move on to the next scene. Be ready in five.”

Reluctantly, Killian walked back to his chair but with the corner of his eyes he noticed Emma checking her phone before putting it away with a frown. It wasn’t the first time she had done that that morning, and he had a hunch it wouldn’t be the last. Whatever it was bothering her earlier, it was connected to her checking her phone so often: he was sure of it.

He didn't have time to think anything more about it though, that August called action. The scene went well, no one broke character this time (even though Killian noticed that David was keeping his eyes on his drink to avoid looking at Emma teasing him). So they continued shooting, filming the bumping-into-each-other's meet cute right away, before then shooting it again from different angles.

But it was only after that, that the real fun began.

They put some upbeat music on and Emma guided him to where a bunch of people were already dancing. She trailed her nails down his torso sending a shiver down his spine, and they started moving along with the music. They were so close that her body would brush rhythmically against him, driving him mad with desire. Trying to hold himself back and kiss her senseless in front of everyone, he put his hands on her hips to keep her still. Emma smirked -  _smirked_  - and pressed even more against him, creating some delicious friction where his pants had started growing tight once more.

“And cut!” August called and Emma stepped away from Killian, a bit short of breath herself as she let him finally take a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. David was blushing red and avoiding their gaze by looking down at an amused Mary Margaret, whereas Ruby winked at Emma not after glancing at the bulge in his pants and giving him a knowing look. As Killian felt his ears growing red, August continued, “ Great job guys, but for the next take I want a bit more passion. Can you give me that?” He didn’t even wait for neither Emma or Killian to nod, that he turned around to go back to his chair, “Good. Start back again from the dancing.”  

Quickly, they went back in position and waited to hear the “action” over the loud music to begin to move. It started like the previous take, with Emma’s hand going all the way down his torso and her swaying against him. This time though, when he put his hands on her hips, he swirled her around, putting her ass right against the hard ridge of his jeans. He slowly dropped open mouthed kisses on her pulse point, enjoying the feeling of her heart racing under his lips. If Emma was having so much fun at teasing him, he might as well torment her a bit by letting her feel what she was doing to him, right?

Emma let out a broken exhale as he sucked lightly on her pulse point and she began grinding slowly against him, enjoying the low moans he made against her skin. After a few moments, she turned around in his arms, putting her hands on his shoulders and looking in his eyes, her pupils dilated and her breath coming out in soft pants. For what felt like hours it was just them, looking in each other’s eyes and pressed so close together only a few inches separated their lips. That is until August voice calling it a cut echoed in the room and, like a violin’s chord drawn too tightly to its breaking point, they snapped apart.

They shot it thrice more from different angles, and both Emma and Killian grew bolder and bolder each time, still managing to make every take look more or less the same. By the last take, they were so far gone that they cared very little of the other people watching them in the room.

Knowing no one would hear him over the loud bassline of the music bursting through the speakers, Killian dared to lean in, bringing his lips by her ear. “You are enjoying this, aren't you?” Killian whispered in a low growl as he kissed that spot near her ear he knew Emma loved, “Making me rock hard when surrounded by so many people? Making me want to tell anyone to fuck off and take you up against the counter?”

Emma whimpered softly and started grinding against him in retaliation, a soft blush spreading on her exposed skin. Killian let out a broken exhale, before biting his lower lip to try get some control. They really needed to tone it down, but it was definitely easier said than done.

When Booth called cut one last time the rays of the sun as it set were starting to enter the bar from the windows, and they decided to call it a day.

Killian was in desperate need for a cold shower by then, and that was exactly what he did as soon as he stepped home. Emma, instead, decided to wait for him in his bedroom. That was where he found her ten minutes later: sitting on her side of the bed in just shorts and a tank top, smiling at her phone. An improvement from the rest of the day for sure.

“I've noticed you checked your phone more than usual today,” he said tucking the towel safely around his hips with one hand as he tried to dry his hair with the other. “If there is something wrong you can tell me. Whenever you want. I'll always listen.”

“I know,” she reassured him, putting her phone aside, “I was just waiting for an important email I was supposed to get a couple of days ago.”

“And judging by that small smile on your face you’ve finally got it?”

“Wow. You truly can read me like an open book,” she teased him, getting off the bed and padding closer to him, “Or maybe I’m just enjoying the view, who knows?”

_Minx_ , he thought with a chuckle.

Killian wiggled his eyebrows and tossed the now damp towel he used for his hair back in the ensuite. “Speaking of phones,” he started, reaching for his mobile resting on the dresser next to him, “Regina sent me some pictures that were taken today as we filmed and she wants me to post one on all my social media accounts for publicity.”

Curious, Emma drew closer to him as he flipped through the pictures. “Now, this is quite nice,” he said, stopping for a few seconds on a picture of him and Emma, sitting at a table as they tasted the awful fake shots and pulling up a face. “But this! This is it,” he announced as the image of her, tongue out trying to fish the straw and eyelids half open while giving him a sexy look, appeared on the full screen.

“No.” Emma almost shouted, surging forward to get the phone from his hands, but he stepped back holding it out of her reach. She glared at him giving him her best murdering glance, “Don’t you dare.”

“Why though?” He asked innocently, “You are so cute when you fail at blinking, Swan, I can’t resist.”

When she gave up stealing his phone, he put it back to its place as it uploaded the first picture he showed her online. She was still scowling at him, arms crossed over her chest and cheeks pink. God, she was so beautiful, he loved working her up like this.

“Killian, I love you, but I swear to God if the thing you just put on twitter is that last picture, you’ll get to sleep on the couch for a month.”

Killian was sure his heart had skipped more than a single beat when his brain registered her words. And when it did, he couldn't believe his ears. She had said it: those three little words he had wanted to say, to scream at the world, for so long but that out of fear of scaring her away he had kept for himself.

He must have gone silent for a while, as the blush on her cheeks was now completely different from before. “What did you say?” He asked, afraid it had been just a dream.

She looked down at her feet sheepishly for a few moments before replying. “Nothing, I -”

He didn't give her time to finish the sentence before he kissed her, hard, trying to convey everything that in all that time he had feared to say out loud.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips when they came up for air, and this time she was the one to close the gap once again and kiss him passionately.

As her fingers played with his hair, he pushed her towards him, growling. When her lips lift from his, she searched his deep blue eyes before saying, “And I love you.”

Breathing out a deep moan, he surged forward, fingers pulling at the hem of her top as he walked her towards the bed. “Too. Many. Clothes,” he punctuated each word with a kiss down her neck.

Lifting their lips from the other's skin only when needed, Killian helped Emma undress, while she untucked the towel hanging low on his hips, letting his erection spring free. Finally with no barriers between them, Emma arched her back against him, bringing her lips back to his. As the kiss turned sloppy, Killian lifted Emma up and placed her at the center of the bed.

Giving himself a moment to take her in, he crawled on top of her, ready to kiss every inch of her all night long.

*       *      *

The sound of irregular steps and the ominous clicking of a cane echoed into the corridors of the GOLD’s building.

A secretary shot up as soon as the man passed by, papers flying off her desk at her haste. She stuttered, her words shortly echoed by the other people in the room, “Good morning, Mr Gold.”

Not caring about answering back, or helping her pick up the papers from the floor, Robert Gold just walked past them, headed to his office. Not that his employees were expecting any words to come from his lips anyways. If Mr Gold talked to you, it meant that you didn't do your job as well as expected by anyone working in the editorial staff: that's what everyone learned on their first day.

As he took the last few steps down the corridor, Mr Gold unbuttoned the jacket of his suit as he approached his office. As he put the hand on the handle, he opened the door, only to notice there was someone waiting for him, giving their back at the entrance as they looked outside from the large windows behind his desk.

Mr Gold closed the door behind him, but the man didn't even flinch. “Son. What are you doing here?”

The man took a deep breath and kept his eyes on the road down them. “Father,” he said, his voice sounding flat, almost emotionless if not for the ounce of disappointment radiating from it, ”I was promised we would have brought down Captain Lover Boy and Swan, but it looks like they are on their way to a happily ever after.“

Gold moved to the tea table on the side of the room and poured two tumblers of whiskey in a couple of glasses. “They do seem very happy,” he observed.

“I don't want her to be happy with him,” he raged, finally turning around to face his father. He clenched his hands in shaky fists and continued, rising his voice as he spoke, “I want her realise that that pretty little dream of hers was just a foolish illusion. I want her back where she belongs: with me. I want my son. I want to see her going down as much as you want to see him do the same.”

Mr Gold sighed, taking the two glasses in hand before walking up to the man.

“Be patient, son,” he replied calmly, offering a glass which the man gladly took. Grinning he added, “The right time for us to strike will come soon enough.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have started uni back again so I don’t know how much it’ll take me to finish the next chapter, but for now, here it is a nice and very long update. 
> 
> Thanks to the wonderful Tessa for her mad betaing skills and to Clare for being always so lovely and listening to my rants when I freak out.

It took a week to film the video and only a couple more of post-production work before it could be ready to be shown to the world. The song got released a few days later without any kind of announcement. However, the publicity the show gave them and Killian’s dedicated fans, made it reach the top of all the charts in less than a day and the video became soon viral.

Overall, it had been a massive success. They would hear their song on the radio, in shops and even on television. It was a bit overwhelming honestly, for Emma for starters, but for him too. After its release, going out without being recognised and eventually finding pictures the following day everywhere on the internet, became almost impossible, as they found out. When Ruby had asked Emma if she remembered to get wine for their girls night, only moments after she got back home at Killian’s from the store, it became pretty clear that they now were the news of the moment.   

In this new scenario, going on dates while keeping a low profile became even more challenging than it already was. At least they could spend time together every day, at home. 

_ Their _ home.

He had asked her to officially move in with him only a few days after the release, during a nice night out camping in the woods. They had gone for a hike, backpacks on their shoulders as they walked in the woods hand in hand, enjoying not having to be conscious of every touch and look. It was liberating. Away from journalists, fans and paparazzi for a couple of days in which they could finally be together outside of home’s walls, and take a breath from the madness that now surrounded them.

They had placed the tent in a little nook not far away from a stream, hoping that fellow campers wouldn’t settle near them.

Killian had built a fire, or, at least, he’d tried his best. Apparently the life of a multi-platinum record selling music star didn’t lend itself to too many outdoor pursuits, since it took him a half hour of furiously rubbing sticks together, his hair flopping into his face, before Emma was forced to stop him with a hand on his wrist. She was biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, but tried to keep her voice gentle.

“You want to try a lighter?”

Killian huffed and sat back on his heels. “Hang on,” he grumbled.

He disappeared into the tent before emerging with a single large blanket that he wrapped around Emma’s shoulders before tucking himself against her side. He was quiet, his expression tight, almost nervous.

Emma elbowed him gently. “It’s not a big deal, you know.”

“What isn’t?” He asked with a frown, probably sounding as lost as he really was. 

“Lighting a fire. We’re not like… cave people.”

Killian laughed shortly. “No I suppose not.”

“You don’t need to, I don’t know, go hunt me a boar or anything.”

“That’s very comforting to a man’s ego, Swan. Thank you.”

She sighed and lay her head on his shoulder. She felt him relax almost immediately.

“I do, uh, I do have another suggestion though. As to how I might… that is… not that you  _ need _ looking after - but - I thought - maybe...”

Emma sat up just enough to see the blush rising up his neck and turning the tips of his ears to a deep shade of red.

“You’ve a real talent with words, Jones.”

“Move in with me?”

“What?”

Killian rubbed at the back of his neck, his eyes fixed on their unlit fire.

“Unless - if you don’t want to that’s fine and I understand, but I’d like - I’d like it to be you and me, Swan. Just us against the world. That is, if you’ll have me?”

Speechless and caught off guard, she pulled him in by his jacket’s lapels and kissed him thoroughly.

“Is that a yes?” he managed as she drew back to catch her breath. Her answering laughter echoed through the forest before he guided her inside the tent to celebrate more thoroughly. 

* * *

The nomination for the MTV Video Music Awards was a nice - well, more than nice - surprise that came about a week later. They were still slowly moving her stuff from her apartment to his - no, their - home, and now the very first song she had ever publicated was on the nominee’s list of one of the most important awards out there. 

It was too much. She had tried not to think much of it and focused on the first important step of moving in with Killian. After all, even though he had all the talent in the world and he was an acclaimed artist already, what were the chances that they would actually win one of those shiny statuettes? They were nominated for more than one category, so yeah they would definitely be higher for them to get at least one, but that was not the point. It wasn’t like she didn’t think their song could win, she just didn’t want to get her hopes up. That way she wouldn’t be disappointed if ( _ when _ ) they didn’t win. 

Her friends thought she was crazy at caring so little for what could be a huge step for her career, but Killian, of course, didn’t. He seemed to get that, deep down, she was truly just scared shitless of it and of what it would entail for the immediate future. In the days following the nomination, he always tried to direct the conversation somewhere else when in public, blaming superstition, and to bring up the topic only if necessary when at home. He even convinced their friends to not organise any party or anything as such to celebrate her birthday and the nominations before the ceremony, as she had asked them more than once. She loved him for that. 

Being her birthday only a couple of days before the red carpet, they decided to stay in and enjoy a quiet night together. He had made her dinner, put on some romantic music and bought some fancy wine for the night. He had even scattered candles around their bedroom, where he much later proceeded to show her exactly how much he loved her.

God, she could still feel her skin blush at the memory. 

“Is everything alright, love?” Killian asked her, bringing her back to reality.

Startled, Emma lifted her gaze up, noticing he was handing her hot chocolate mug out for her to take, and he probably had for for a while. Blushing deeper, she took the mug and looked sheepishly at him as she sat on the couch. “Yeah, I was just thinking about the other night.”

“Hmm,” Killian hummed as he casually sipped on his coffee, playing dumb, “Which night? You have to be more precise. There was the one in the woods, the one in the pool and the other by the fire, the one -”

“The night of my birthday,” she interrupted him, noticing with a side glance that he was smirking.

“Ooh, that night!”

Emma rolled her eyes and sighed. “Yes, that night.”

Killian’s smirk grew wider. “And what  _ exactly  _ were you thinking about that night?” He asked, the tip of his tongue poking out just a little from his mouth to wet his lips, “Please, tell me.”

After studying him for a few moments, Emma put her mug down on the table in front of her. “I was just thinking of how we could recreate it with our roles inverted,” she shrugged, watching his expression change as he imagined all the things she could do to him with her tongue. Pupils dilated, jaw set, tongue licking his lips once more: _ bingo _ . “Too bad that the guys will be here soon to get us ready for tonight and that my boyfriend is being a bit of jerk this morning,” she added, bringing the mug back to her lips as she waited for his reaction.

_ Three… Two… One… _

“No Emma, wait! I’m sorry.”

_ And here it is _ , she thought, as she kept her eyes on her drink, suppressing a grin.

“Come on, love,” he pleaded, giving her his best set of puppy eyes as he put his mug down before moving closer to shower her collarbone with kisses, “We still have plenty of time.” 

Damn him. She hadn’t considered the puppy eyes. He bloody well knew she couldn’t resist them, and now her plan to make him beg for it was shattered. Not that she was upset with the result, mind you.

It was exactly a couple of hours later that, now happy, sated and showered, they let the small group of stylists and makeup artists in. Emma had barely the time to say “hello” that she was dragged upstairs and locked in one of the many guest rooms. First, she had to choose the outfit for the night among the few dresses Anton, her stylist for that night, had brought, by trying them all on.She let  him handle choosing which her the accessories would look best. It was like going back to the time when for the show she had to attend dress fittings weekly, with the exception that this time, each one of the dresses sprawled on the bed was definitely worth much more than her old apartment’s rent. And she didn’t even want to think how much all those beautiful shoes and clutches and jewels would cost too. Never in her life had she thought that before her thirties she would be living with her internationally famous boyfriend in his villa, having their first single together blasting on radios, having thousands of fans following her social media accounts and being about to attend her first red carpet.

Her life had become truly crazy.

After picking a stunning off the shoulder, long red dress with a tear on the gown that she was sure would make Killian’s head spin, Ashley, the same girl from Enchanted’s makeup team, sat Emma down on a chair and started working on her hair, as she chatted cheerfully with her and Anton. As she combed Emma’s hair in a complicated braid crown updo, Anton cracked some jokes and swore he would watch the red carpet that night only to see Killian drooling over her and tease him next time. She had to admit that for how eccentric he looked with his brown curls arranged in odd haircut she couldn’t really describe and beige silk shirt with a patterned foulard around its collar, he was an amazingly funny guy. 

Once her hair was done, the focus of her stylists switched to painting her nails and doing her makeup. They kept it simple: burgundy nail polish to contrast with the white sandals and clutch, and one of those natural looks for her face that was impossible to master.

After putting on dress, heels and a pair of diamond earrings and rings (and almost four hours of pampering), she was deemed ready and free to join Killian downstairs. 

Taking a deep breath, Emma slowly descended the stairs. One hand firmly holding the banister, the other keeping away from her eyes the few curly stands that were left out of the braid, Emma looked at her feet for the most part of the flight, scared to trip on those stupidly high heels and fall. It was only when there were a few steps left that she looked up. Killian was standing right in front of her at the bottom of the stairs, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide. He took her in, from toes to hair and then down again, his eyes zeroing in on the glimpse of her leg through the fabric as the tip of his tongue poked out from his mouth to wet his lower lip. 

Emma giggled. Yep, Killian was fuckstruck for good. Actually, she could very much relate because that navy blue tux, white shirt with the collar slightly left unbuttoned to show just a bit of his chest and I’ve-just-got-out-of-bed tousled hair? That was sexy as hell. Possibly barely legal.

“Emma,” he stuttered a little, taking her hand away from the banister to help her down the last steps himself, “You are… Stunning.”

As her cheeks grew pink, a wide grin appeared on Emma’s lips. “Thank you. You don’t look half bad either.”

“ _ Half bad _ ? Love, I am bloody handsome,” he scoffed with a smirk as Emma laughed at his affronted frown.

“That you are,” she assured him, fixing the white handkerchief poking out from his jacket’s pocket.

Putting his hands on her hips, he leaned in to give her a quick kiss when Leroy’s loud voice and the honking of a car horn startled them.

“Lovebirds, will you get a move? We don’t have all day!”

With a sigh Emma let her head fall on his chest as he huffed in annoyance. “Better get in the car, love,” he said, leaving a kiss on the top of her head. 

“Yeah. For how amusing it might be, I really don’t want to make him grumpier than he already is tonight,” she said, looking up at him before taking his hand and head outside.

By the time they got there, Leroy was already in the car. “Finally!” He shouted from the open window as he nervously drummed his fingers on the wheel. “Miss Mills will have my head if you guys are late.”

Killian gave Emma an exasperated look and rushed to the back of the car where he held the door open for her to get in before following her. “And if you don't drive already then we certainly will, mate,” he grumbled.

“I know, I know,” Leroy said, starting the car and turning in his seat to face them, “Just one more thing: no -”

“No smooching allowed in the back seats. Yes, we remember,” Emma interrupted him. 

Leroy just stared at them with a wide - quite creepy if she were honest - grin on his face. “Great. And you better not forget it,” he added, driving down the path to the gate.

The drive to the venue was pretty fast, or at least, that's how to Emma it felt like. However, waiting for their turn to step on the red carpet was nerve-wracking. Killian, who was sitting next to her, seemed unfazed, but whether he really was or he was just pretending to be for her sake, she couldn't tell. She, instead, by hearing the screaming of the fans over the buzzing of journalists and guests and the clicking of the photographers’ cameras going off, was all jittery. God, she was so nervous she felt like her heart could burst out of her chest at any time. As Leroy, once been given the okay from the staff, started the car again to bring them up to the red carpet and the theatre’s entrance, she gave Killian a shaky smile before turning around to look from the window.

“A little liquid courage?” Killian asked, shaking a small silvery flask and making her jump on her seat.

Emma watched him with wide eyes. “I…,” she stuttered, opening her mouth once or twice as he took a gulp of the rum that she thought was in the flask before she could form any sound. “Did you bring a flask of rum with you? What are you a pirate?”

Killian looked at her with a pointed look as he rose his left eyebrow. 

“Fine,” Emma rolled her eyes at the ceiling, ”Do you think it’s wise, though? To drink before this… Thing? I really wouldn’t want to embarrass myself on national television in front of the press and so many celebrities.”

“And you won’t,” he promised her, tucking her in by his side and leaving a small peck on her lips. Completely ignoring Leroy’s icy glance in the rear-view mirror, he continued as he drew circles on her cheek with his thumb to soothe her, “I’m not saying to get drunk, love. Just to take a sip to loosen your nerves.”

Emma wrinkled her nose. “I’m not -”

“Yes, you are, Emma. You are trembling.”

Breathing out a sigh in defeat, Emma accepted the tiny flask and took a sip of rum, enjoying the warm burn that it left behind just while their car came to a halt right in front of the red carpet. The screams of the fans were possibly even louder than before.

“Are you ready?”

Wincing, Emma shook her head slowly, the outside noises growing louder and louder in her head as her anxiety grew. She hated being at the centre of attention. It had always felt too much: too many people staring at her, too many expectations, too many hushed words and giggles whispered in people’s ears that she consciously knew they couldn’t be about her but that her mind liked to think they actually were. It was different on stage. There, with the lights in her eyes and the music in her ears, she couldn’t either see the audience nor hear them whispering behind her back. There, back when they were filming Enchanted, she knew that if for whichever reason she got nervous, she could freely glance at Killian’s blue, calming eyes without fearing of people gossiping about every little look or touch they exchanged. 

“Hey, it’s alright,” he comforted her softly, his touch on her arm gentle, “I’ll be beside you the whole night. We are in this together remember?”

Smiling softly at his words, she nodded. What she did to deserve such a wonderful man, she had no idea, but whatever it was it must have been good. “I love you,” she told him after taking a deep breath, moments before he would open the door.

“I love you too,” Killian turned around and said, kissing her forehead briefly. “Shall we go?”

When Emma gave him a nod, Killian opened the door, cueing the start of more flashes going off as he helped her get off the car after him. All the pictures and videos Emma had seen in her life faded in comparison to the splendour and madness of the real thing. Fans began screaming their lungs out as soon as they stepped off the car, and they pretty much continued for the fifteen-ish minutes in which, sided by several security guards, they signed autographs and took selfies with them. That was easy, it was still a bit mind blowing - and she guessed it’d always be, at least to some extent - thinking there were people that wanted a picture with her or her to sign pamphlets or posters or basically anything they had at hand, but she was slowly getting used to it. After all, all she had to do was smile, exchange a few words with a stranger and scribble her name somewhere. 

The hard part came later. 

When their time with the fans ran out, they were escorted further on on the red carpet where most of the photographers were amassed and taking the last few pictures of one of those brand new boy bands in front of a set of huge billboards. Killian must have noticed her tensing up beside him as they walked because he reached for her hand and leaned closer to her to whisper, “Relax, love. All we have to do is smile, show how hot we are this evening and look like we are having the time of our life.” 

“And how do we do that?” Emma whispered back as she gripped her teeth in an awkward grin.

“We just smile and pose, trying to look as natural as possible. Then, when we’ll be asked to take pictures together, just follow my lead.”

Taking a deep breath, Emma stepped in front of the photographers, putting a hand on her hips and hoping her smile wouldn’t look as forced as it actually was. With her now former job she had to practice her acting skills, pretending every time to be a different person to catch a prep. She was amazing at tricking that scum into thinking she wasn’t after him, true. She wasn’t that good of an actress, though, to fake nonchalance in front of mad-looking persons, screaming her name left and right as the flashes of their cameras almost made her go blind. After a few interminable minutes, Emma turned around a bit and glanced with the corner of her eyes at Killian, standing a couple of feet from her. Noticing she was looking at him, his eyes found hers, giving her an encouraging nod and a smile. That was all she needed to bring her attention back to the photographers.

It was a couple more minutes later that, as she was giving Killian her back, she felt two firm hands placing on her hips, making her jump. She was ready to turn around and knock the man out by jerking her knee up against his groin, when she heard Killian’s low voice right by her ear. “You are doing wonderfully, love.”

“Killian!” Emma squealed, turning quickly around in his hand to face him before pushing at his chest to get him off her. “You scared the shit out of me! I was about to drop kick you,” she said, trying to hold back a laugh. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” he said as he stretched his arm to bring her against him once again, his hand landing gently on her side, “But you are more relaxed now, aren’t you?”

_ Point taken _ .

She wasn’t sure if it was because of Killian being a dork or just because he was now by her side to face the photographers, but the second part of that nightmare went much smoothly and much quicker than it did before.

It didn’t take long before they were left free to stroll down the red carpet. Now that she was much more relaxed, she had to admit that the atmosphere was amazing. Celebrities were passing by them, people she had only ever seen on the screen of her phone sometimes stopping to greet Killian and to meet her; fans were endlessly cheering for their favourite stars; journalists were interviewing nominees and guests by the sides. They were only stopped a couple of times as they walked to get some more pictures together, but, truth be told, they didn’t get much walking done (and her feet were more than happy for that not so insignificant aspect of the evening). In fact, they spent most of the time being interviewed.

Talking with journalists wasn’t that hard, as she had found in the past months. Most of the time they knew how to make you comfortable and when not to push too much on a certain subject. She had also gotten used to the practice in deflection one had to do every single time for one reason or another by then, so she was pretty confident when the time for their first interview came. And even more for the second, and the third, and the next after that. However, after being asked the very same questions in five interviews (well, five... She’d lost count after the fifth so they might even be more than that), Emma was beyond bored as they approached another journalist.

“James! Long time no see, mate,” Killian said, reverting back in a mild version of that Irish accent of his that made Emma shiver and her knees buckle every single time.

Surprisingly to Emma, who had thought he was greeting another singer, the short scruffy man with a pair of big glasses on his nose holding a mic ready to interview them exclaimed, before hugging Killian briefly, “Killian Jones!”

Emma frowned in confusion. She honestly had so many questions she didn’t even know where to start. 

“I’ve been waiting for you,” James said, moving to the side so he wouldn’t be bothering the cameraman in front of her and Killian too much. “I was hoping you would introduce me to the lovely Miss Swan.”

Killian pouted making Emma chuckle. “Oh, I see how it is.”

“Emma, please,” she said in between giggles.

“I’m sorry, man, but she is stunning. And talented too as far as I’ve heard.”

“That is a very true statement,” Killian agreed as he took her into his side, making her blush.

Looking at the camera James “aaww”ed at the scene and then continued with the interview. “Well, your song, ‘Like Fire’, is  _ everywhere _ \- no really, most days it almost feels like it follows you around,” he added when Killian opened his mouth to try brush off the compliment, while Emma was sure he was actually itching to scratch the spot behind his ear, “It would have been hard for me and everyone else not to notice how great you two sound together.”

“What can I say, we make quite the team, James,” Killian replied, hiding his embarrassment at the compliments under a mask of cheekiness.

“Hmm… Do you?” he asked, eyes twinkling with mischief, making Emma freeze on the spot, “What do you say to play a little game to prove it?”

And there it was. She saw that coming, she really did. However, even though a part of her was excited to finally get to do something different and fun, another much louder part of her was instead dreading it and screaming in her head. What if he asked them about something personal? They still hadn't come out as a couple out of fear of the conclusions of favouritism most people and press would draw. What if they would expose themselves thanks to a stupid game? Emma glanced at Killian and noticed that even though he looked more relaxed than her, he wasn't thrilled by it.

“Don't look so scared,” James reassured them, “It’s just an innocent game to see how well you know each other. All you'll have to do is saying who between you two is more likely to do the list of things I'll read out to you.”

Deciding that he was telling the truth, Emma nudged Killian and told him, finally getting in the conversation, “What do you say? Shall we play?”

“Of course, love. You know I never back away from a challenge.”

Turning back at the camera Emma and Killian gave two matching playful grins at it before Emma said, “Go on then, James. Shoot!”

“That’s the spirit guys! So, let’s begin,” he announced turning serious all of a sudden. “Who is most likely to break into song while working?”

They both replied at once, Emma giving him a quick amused glance before saying, “Killian,” as Killian blushed and admitted, “Me.”

James laughed and the continued, “Who is most likely to throw someone a punch?”

“Me, but only if they deserve it.”  “Oh, definitely Emma.”

“Really?” James asked, his eyebrows so high up on his forehead that they looked about to fall off his face.

“Yeah,” she said, trying not to sound petty, “I’ll have you know, I was a bail bonds person until a few weeks ago. How to knock someone out is not something one forgets in that little time.”

“Careful, mate. You really wouldn’t want to cross her, trust me. This one throws one hell of a left hook,” Killian warned James, pointing at Emma who smiled innocently.

“And I take your word for it. Now, I fear I might already know the answer to this one, but who is most likely to eat all the food?”

Emma and Killian exchanged a look and small secretive smile. “Killian,” she said just as he pronounced her name, both turning towards the camera.

Emma glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest. “Wait what?”

“You ate the entire carton of the ice cream just the other night,” Killian pointed out.

“And you ate all the popcorn!” She fired back, staring at him hard, but not enough to make his gaze waver.

“Wow! I feel like  _ I _ should get some popcorn for this,” James interrupted them, making them stop eye-murdering each other. 

_ Really? That was lame _ , Emma thought, trying not to roll her eyes,  _ And there I thought he was funny for a minute _ . 

“To be honest I am surprised; I thought we would all agree that it would have been Killian but…” James trailed off, gesturing at the both of them with the mic, “Anyways, last question: who is most likely to be the best dancer? Or who is the better dancer, if you have already seen each other’s moves.”

Emma hummed, searching Killian’s eyes for an answer, but she soon stopped to when she saw a twinkle of mischief in them as a smirk formed on his lips. Yep, Mr Innuendo had joined the interview.

“I’m sorry but I can’t answer that. It depends on the dance, you see?” Killian wiggled his eyebrows, looking proud of his joke.

_ Ding ding ding! A hundred points to Emma _ , a voice deadpanned in her head as she gave him another dirty look. Looking up at his smug face, she landed a loud smack on his arm and exclaimed, hoping he would hear the warning in her voice, “Killian!”

James, on the other hand, chuckled at the scene. “Well, with that we must bid you farewell, but judging from your answers we can tell you that you two will go very far.”

After saying James goodbye, they finally started walking to get inside the theater, their press duties being done and accounted for.

As they walked, Killian leaned in to whisper in her ear, noticing how tense she had become after the interview, “You are not angry, aren’t you?”

Well that was a good question. Was she actually? Probably no. Or rather, definitely not with him for being his flirty self. But was she scared shitless of what would happen if their relationship would be seen by what it actually was to the public eye? Hell yes. It was too soon after the end of Enchanted; people would surely question her right to be both to the final and with a musical career already in front of her.

“No, I’m not. But let’s try harder not to look too couple-y from now on,” she whispered back, “We wanted to be the ones to tell people of our relationship in our terms and not having them speculating and gossiping about us, remember? At least not too much of course.” 

“As you wish,” he said, making her smile once again, “But Swan? I doubt that will explode on us after just a few pictures and interviews. And if by any chance it does, we’ll deal with it. Together.”  

Dammit, how could this man always say what exactly she needed to hear? Normally she would have kissed him - hell she was itching to kiss him -, but even though in the theatre foyer there were fewer people than there were outside, there were no chances at all she could sneak a kiss without them being noticed. So, instead, she just nodded, letting her eyes meet his, and repeated, “Together.”

They stared at each other for a few moments until a voice made them jump apart. “Emma! Killian!” Belle called as she approached them, her bright blue dress flowing behind her as she balanced on impressively high heels, “I’ve been looking for you for ages, but every time I spotted you, you would disappear and get held by the press’ claws.”

“Belle,” Emma said, giving their friend a hug. After working with her on the show, she had tagged along with Tink and the others whenever they would organise some sort of meet up and she had quickly become one of their best friends. She had even met David, Mary Margaret and finally Ruby, with which she seemed to get along wonderfully, the two of them soon creating a weird and improbable but solid friendship. Letting Belle go get a hug from Killian too, Emma asked, “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell us you had been invited?”

“I’m here to present a category,” she replied quickly before freeing herself from Killian’s strong arms, her words muffled against his clothes. Then, facing them both she continued, “I know, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. But it was a last minute thing, you know? And I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, you certainly did, lass,” Killian smirked, taking a look at her outfit and making her laugh.

“That’s his way to say he’s happy I am here, isn’t it?” She asked at Emma who chuckled and nodded at her, both of them ignoring the pouting man next to them.

They didn’t have the chance to talk much more than that though, that they were asked to find and take their seats. The arena was already packed with people and it was bubbling with excitement when they entered. So, by the time they managed to take a seat, in between mingling and wondering around, the lights started to dim leaving the room illuminated by just the powerful, coloured spotlights over the stage as the show started. 

Emma had tried to watch this kind of things on TV over the years but she had always found herself get bored to death and switching to Netflix after very little. All she wanted was to know who won what. She didn’t really care about all the live music and speeches and guests. She had hoped that being actually there, sitting in those comfy chairs, would have made her enjoy the show much more, but apparently, that wasn’t the case. Less than an hour in, and she had already started to wish they were both home and in their bed. Three hours in and she had already counted how many lights, big and small, there were on the stage.

They hadn’t won Video of the Year but then Belle had come on stage to announce the nominees for Best Pop Single and really, they should have understood that she was there for a reason. 

“Good evening everyone!” She had announced, getting a very loud reaction from the audience. “Here's the list of this year's nominees for Best Pop Single: first -”

Emma’s mind had tuned out then, nervous all of a sudden. She had fooled anyone (except Killian, of course) into thinking that she was crazy and didn't care about winning or losing, and she had been so good at it that she had basically managed to trick herself into it. However, the tornado of butterflies in her stomach were telling another tale altogether. 

Seeing how tense she got, Killian reached for her hand and gave it a soft squeeze before giving him a reassuring smile. Like a nice cup of hot chocolate on a chilly, winter night, that did the trick and Emma felt herself relax. 

“- and last but not least, Killian Jones featuring Emma Swan in Like Fire,” Belle concluded, cueing the cameras finding them in the crowd of celebrities and a few seconds of their song blasting from the speakers. “And the award goes to…” 

Silence fell in the theater. The only thing Emma could hear was the quick thuds of her heart. She even barely registered the way Killian’s hand began squeezing hers. 

As if she were underwater, Belle’s words once she spoke again sounded muffled to her. “Like Fire by -”

As their names got lost in the cheers that erupted all around them, they jumped off their seat, Killian embracing her tightly in his arms after blowing a quick kiss on her forehead. As she sat back down, he sprinted onstage, hugging Belle and taking the award as he muttered her something indistinguishable at which she just smiled and shrugged. 

“Ehm...wow. I, uh -” he stammered, looking down at the golden statuette in his hands. “You'd think I'm used to this, but truth is one never really does. Anyway, I must thank a bunch of people if you don't mind: my manager, Regina Mills, August Booth, for directing the perfect video and, of course, Emma,” he said, his eyes finding hers. “She is brilliant. One of the most - if not  _ the  _ most - lovely and amazing person I've ever got the chance to meet. Her talent can only be overcome by how much of a great friend she is. I know you tend to second guess yourself, Emma, were I have to do it again I'd press that button a hundred times.”

Under his gaze, Emma had actually felt herself tear up a little. He had always been the one good with words (when he wanted).

It was after he got off stage, that Emma snuck backstage and, after finding a dark and hidden nook, she kissed him senseless. If Belle noticed the way his hair were sticking everywhere more than usual moments before they went on stage to sing, she didn't say.

* * *

They woke up the following morning with their limbs tangled in the sheets, Regina’s voice coming from Killian’s phone shouting at them to get their ass at hers for celebratory and late birthday brunch, thousands of mentions on Twitter and a  _ ship name _ . Apparently, according to Regina, their mentions, follower numbers and accounts views had skyrocketed during the night after that a bunch of people began suspecting they were together and had started the “Captain Swan” tag. 

As soon as Killian ended the call, Emma trailed kisses down his torso, which had been functioning as a pillow since then, and asked, in between kisses, “Do we really have to go?”

“Afraid so,” he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment to enjoy the tingling burn that would spread on his skin at every touch of her lips. Then, placing his hand on her side, he pinned her down against the mattress in a matter of seconds. While he softly kissed her surprised giggle away, he let his body flush against hers. “I’d love to spend the day in bed with you,” he said once they came up for air, “But I fear Regina might get in here herself and drag us out of the sheets if we don’t show up.”

Emma sighed in disappointment. It was not fair, especially after he had kissed her like that.  _ Bastard _ . “What about the rumours?” She finally asked, “Shouldn’t we do something?”

“No. These things always happen on Twitter after an event like last night’s. For now, we won’t do anything. If it doesn’t die down in a few weeks or if we see articles popping up on magazines though, we’ll see what to do. But everything will be alright. I promise.”

“Okay,” Emma said after looking at him for a few moments, letting her worries being washed away by the sea blue of his eyes and the low timbre of his voice. “Get off me then,” Emma pushed him away, “We should get dressed.”

Killian landed with a muffled “oof” on his side of the bed. “Rude, Swan,” he pouted as Emma got up. 

Feeling his stare on her bare arse as she walked, Emma looked at him behind her back and stuck her tongue out before disappearing in the ensuite. A few moments later, just as she was about to step under the shower’s spray, Killian burst the door open and joined her.

Surprisingly, by the time they arrived at Regina’s, Robin and his son were the only people already there. (Or well, him being the only one there was more a surprise to Killian who was still in denial than it was to her).

“Here you are,” Regina exclaimed when she opened the door, letting them inside.

“Hello, Regina. Where is everyone else?” Killian spoke first, voicing her own question. 

“Robin is outside with Roland trying to work the barbecue. As for the others…” she trailed off, a small smirk appearing on her lips, “Well, let’s just say I told you to come half an hour earlier because I knew you were going to be late. Which you are, by the way.”

“Oh, come on,” Killian whined as Emma’s eyes fixated on the boy that was currently sprinting down the stairs, “It’s only fifteen minutes!”

Regina didn’t have time to reply that a blur of brown hair and clothes hurled in Killian’s arms while shouting his name. 

“Hello to you too, lad,” Killian chuckled, lifting the buy up and spinning him around before letting his feet touch the floor again. Emma could only smile at that scene.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Henry?” Regina sighed, “No running on the stairs.”

Still in Killian’s arms, the boy mumbled an apology before letting him go and turning around to face her.

Emma froze, but her mind started racing. 

“You must be Emma,” Henry chirped, “I’m Henry. Killian told me so much about you.”

Emma didn’t even notice Killian flushing red beside her, nor did she try to speak right away. Instead, she desperately tried to get rid the lump that had formed in her throat and to make sense of what she was seeing. Because the boy in front of her wasn’t just Regina’s Henry. He was the carbon copy of Henry,  _ her son _ . 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves* Hello! I have forgotten how mentally draining uni is, I’m sorry if from now on it’ll take me a while to update, but as you can see this story is slowly coming to an end. The last few chapters will also be really long so please be patient with me :)
> 
> Thanks to Tessa for her mad betaing skills.

Emma had somehow managed to survive the brunch, but she hadn’t been the same after her encounter with Henry. Part of the initial shock that had made her blurt a few words when he had introduced himself to her, was gone, replaced with worry as time went on. 

Worry, yes. Worry for what would happen once they would get home again. Because she had noticed that Killian had instantly sensed something was wrong, and she was dreading the talk she would have to have with him. The fact that he hadn’t tried to ask her what had happened while they were at Regina’s, definitely hadn’t helped her feel less anxious about it, but in hindsight, she wouldn’t have wanted him to. Henry was around, Regina was around, Tink and Mary Margaret and the whole gang were around: she was doing her best to look happy and cheerful and not to worry anyone. Luckily Killian had understood that.   

As soon as they got home after an oddly quiet drive, Emma bolted upstairs, muttering something about getting changed. Killian didn’t follow her. Emma could feel his gaze on her back as she climbed the stairs two steps at a time, but she was too upset and scared to care. Getting inside their bedroom, she quickly got rid of her clothes, throwing them on the chair without even folding them, and put on a pair of old sweatpants and the first t-shirt she could fish out of the drawer, which happened to be the one she had stolen from Killian. Then, finally free to breathe, she let herself fall on the bed, her face landing a few inches from the pillow.

Killian still hadn’t shown up. Wonderful. Maybe she should have apologised before running away. No, wait. She should have thanked him for not forcing the issue at Regina’s. After all, she already had a lot of apologising to do for hiding such an important part of her past from him, it didn’t make sense to add unnecessary apologies to her cart. They just needed to talk. She wasn’t really looking forward to reliving those bits of her past, but she had to. She had been wanting to tell him for a while, but now she really couldn’t keep it from him anymore. His manager’s son was actually her freaking son. He was the baby that she felt wriggle inside her belly for months; the baby she didn’t even hold once because of the fear she wouldn’t be strong enough to give him the better chance he deserved otherwise.

The child with whom she had been talking through e-mails for about a year. 

Emma let out a muffled groan against the mattress, then brushing away the few tears that spilled from her eyes at the memories, she padded all the way down the corridor to the music room. As a few drops of rain started falling from the sky, patting gently against the large windows by the piano, Emma sat on its stool. Her fingers hovered up on down the keys, deep in thought. A finger pressed a key, then another, and soon, without even realising, she was playing a sweet, if a bit melancholic, song.

She didn’t know how much time had passed when she saw her mug appear next to the stand. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? It didn’t really matter, though. Killian was there now. She could feel him, sitting by her side, so close that she could feel the heat of his body radiating from him.

“That was a very beautiful song, Swan,” he said softly as the last few ending notes of it echoed in the room.

“Thank you,” Emma whispered, taking her mug in hand and taking a sip.  _ Wow _ , she thought, when the taste of chocolate, cinnamon and some other spice pervaded her mouth. That hot chocolate was good, even better than usual. Was there nutmeg in it too? She had to remember to ask him if it really was so she could make it herself too. Or simply ask him to make it again for her from now on.

“I know that something today at Regina’s bothered you. Practically as soon as we arrived there you stopped being yourself, you just put on a mask for the others not to see there was something wrong. And somehow I doubt you were just upset about not being able to spend a more than enjoyable morning with me,” he joked, his expression softening seeing a small smile appear on Emma’s lips, “So, if you want to talk about it, I am here to listen. Now, later tonight, tomorrow, whenever you are ready.”

There was a long silence after that, his words echoing in Emma’s head as she tried to muster her courage, then she sighed. “The thing is I haven’t been fully honest with you,” she started, hating the way she felt his body stiffen by her, “There is something about me you don’t know. I’ve been meaning to tell you for weeks but…”

“Hey,” Killian cupped her cheek at hearing the way her voice got caught in her throat when she trailed off, “I love you no matter what you are going to tell me.”

Emma took a deep breath.  _ Come on, Emma. Say it,  _ a small voice in her head urged her. “I was pregnant,” she blurted out quickly, her gaze fixed on the black and white keys.

“You… What?”

At hearing the way his voice got caught up at the end in a choked high pitch, Emma looked up at him. His mouth was hanging slightly open, while his eyebrows didn’t seem to know whether they wanted to stay high arched up or knotted down in a frown. And was it worry, and possibly even hurt, in his eyes? He surely didn’t think that…

“No. It’s not - I wasn’t -,” she stuttered before looking back down at her hands, distractedly hovering on the keyboard. “I was pregnant when I got arrested, about ten years ago.” At her words, she felt Killian relax next to her and release a long exhale, but Emma kept her gaze on the ivory keys. “I gave birth to a baby boy in prison, while handcuffed to the bed. But I couldn’t be a mother then,” her voice caught in her throat in a choked sob as she tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall, but now that the words had come, it didn’t seem she could stop them. “I was nineteen, in prison and with very little money, my ex fiance and father of my baby had cheated on me and left me to pay for his crimes. I thought my friends didn’t want to see me ever again. To give him the better chance of the happy life I couldn’t get him, I gave him up for adoption. I didn’t even hold him.” 

She had to stop then, her last few words coming out in a broken whisper and hot tears streaming down her cheeks. It didn’t take long before she felt one of Killian’s hands rubbing her back gently, as the other’s fingers tried to brush away her tears.

“Oh, love. I’m so sorry.”

Emma gave herself a few moments to compose herself and then spoke again, rubbing the last few tears away from her eyes, “That’s not all. About a year ago he contacted me on an old email account I had forgotten about. That wasn’t supposed to happen, it was a closed adoption. I don’t know how he found that information, but he did. He has been writing to me once a month ever since.”

“Is that why you were so worried a few weeks ago? He didn’t send you a message when he was supposed to, did he?” 

“Yeah,” she said quietly, cringing. Noticing Killian’s brows knot in a frown, she continued, the words coming faster and faster as she spoke, “Are you angry? I know I should have told you back then, but I was scared of your reaction, that you might see me differently. I should have told you right away. I just -”

Killian ran a finger down her cheek to make her stop babbling. “I’m not angry, and I definitely don’t see you any differently,” he reassured her, the tone of his voice soothing. “I was just trying to understand why seeing Henry could have possibly made you so upset, aside from the obvious fact that he should be more or less as old as your son.”

“Actually he’s exactly as old as my son, down to the minute,” Emma winched. 

Silence fell at her words. Emma watched Killian’s confused eyes grow wide as the information set in, still worried about what he would say despite his words of reassurement. She could basically see the wheels turning inside his head.

“Henry is your son, isn’t he?” 

Emma’s teary eyes found his as she breathed out a “yes” in a broken whisper.

“He has your nose,” he said softly, booping her nose and making her smile. “And your smile,” he added, arching his left eyebrow.

“Yeah, he does,” Emma smiled fondly. “What I am supposed to do now, though? Pretend I hadn’t met him? Tell Regina and hope she doesn’t forbid me to have any sort of interaction with him? I don’t want to lose him again, Killian.” 

Hearing the way her voice grew more agitated with each question and the desperation in her voice, Killian put his arm around her body and held her close, letting her use his shoulder as a pillow. “I don’t know, love,” he confessed, “I don’t know.”

*       *      *

Killian had hoped that after lifting that weight off her chest and opening up to him, Emma would feel less stressed out knowing he had her back, but that didn’t happen. Be it her stubbornness or the uncertainty of her and Henry’s relationship, twenty-four hours had passed and nothing much had changed. She had even tried to make it up to him for lying in every possible way she could manage in a single day. Bloody hell, by the look in her eyes he wasn’t even certain she truly believed him every time he would remember her that he loved her and that there was nothing to forgive. 

Following the melody coming from the music room, he found her there, sitting on the couch and plucking at the cords of one of his guitars. Sitting next to her and so making her stop playing as soon as she noticed him, he said, “Emma, love, what do you say I run you a bubble bath while I quick run to the store?”

Emma hummed softly, putting the guitar away so it wouldn’t get in between. “A bubble bath sounds nice,” she said before kissing him briefly, then frowned, “Why are you going, though? We did the shopping a couple of days ago.”

“It’s a surprise,” he smirked and then made to go, “I’ll go get the tub ready.”

“Killian wait,” Emma put a hand on his thigh, making him sit back again. “Thank you,” she murmured on his lips before they got lost in another kiss. 

He left Emma soaking in the water about half an hour later, headed to the store. Killian roamed through the surprisingly - and luckily - empty aisles looking for something that would cheer Emma up. An extra large pack of skittles? A big bag of chocolate chip cookies? A couple of pints of ice-cream? He hadn’t thought it that far back home. His plan had just been to do something for her to let go of her worries and enjoy the quiet moments. He hadn’t realised that the way to Emma’s heart through sweets and chocolate was full of possibilities, though. 

After a solid ten minutes spent staring at the wall of cookies in front of him, Killian let out a frustrated sigh and stomped to the freezers to get a bucket of Emma’s two favourite ice-cream flavours each before heading to the check-out. He had just put the boxes on the conveyor belt when, lifting his gaze up, his eyes landed on the covers of a bunch of gossip magazines hanged right there. 

Each one of them screamed in big neon letters: “ _ Has a romance sparked Like Fire? _ ”, “ _ It’s getting hot in here: read all about the new relationship that has taken the music world by storm! _ ”, “ _ Love spreading like wildfire at the MTV Video Music Awards _ !”, and so on. 

Killian was about to will his eyes away when he froze. Staring right back at him on those bright colored covers, there were Emma’s light green eyes. She was laughing, her head turned towards the photographers and cheeks slightly flushed pink as Killian whispered something in her ear. When did they even take that picture? And why hadn’t Regina told them already? 

“That would be ten dollars, please,” the cashier said, bringing him back from his stupor. 

Forcing his eyes away from those bloody magazines, he moved forward, fishing some cash from his jeans pockets. “Yes, sorry about that.”

Luckily, the woman didn't even bat her eyelashes at him or at his voice, letting him get away quickly from the store. Now he had to find a way to tell Emma what he saw. Brilliant. See how his plans go roll down the hill. For all the way home he thought about how to break the news to her without making her worry over one more thing too, but he had soon come to the conclusion that that would be simply impossible. 

As soon as he closed the door behind him, he saw a halo of golden hair shooting down the stairs. “Hey, love. Feeling any better after a bath?” He asked, dropping the keys inside a bowl on the library and placing the ice-cream on the tea table. 

“I am. Thank you,” she said, running up to him and kissing his cheek. “What do you have here?”

Killian smirked, relieved to finally see the tension had finally left her shoulders. “Ice-cream, of course.”

“Oh my god, I love you,” Emma said as she picked up a box and cradled it in her arms like a baby, before sitting down on the sofa and trying to open the lid. 

Chuckling, Killian disappeared into the kitchen and got a couple of spoons just as he heard Emma’s cry of victory. Then, he sat next to her and offered her a spoon, “You might need one of these, Swan.”

“Right,” Emma’s eyes roamed from spoon to ice-cream and vice versa a couple of times making Killian laugh. “Thank you,” she said, finally taking the spoon he was offering her and digging it in the ice-cream, then stopped, her eyes meeting his, all the playfulness gone all of a sudden, “Seriously, thank you. For bearing with me in the last day or so. Most people would have just bolted away or given up on me.”

“Well, love we are in luck then that I certainly am not most people.”

Chuckling, Emma swayed towards him and hit him gently with her shoulder before taking a spoonful of ice-cream into her mouth. 

As Killian put on her favourite episode of Sherlock on Netflix, she quietly ate her ice-cream, seeming not even remotely interested to share it with him.

“Will I be allowed to get some, or shall I fetch the other box?” He asked as the titles rolled in.

Emma hummed, handing him the spoon he had put on the table with a content smile. “Just because I like you.”

They fell in a comfortable silence, watching the show and laughing at Sherlock and John getting drunk.

“I saw something earlier at the store,” Killian said after a while.

Emma’s eyes remained fixated on the screen. “What?”

“Uh, a couple of magazines,” he said, scratching the back of his neck, “Well, their covers to be precise.”

“And what about them?”

“They were all implying we could be together.”

At hearing his words, Emma snapped her head around to face him. “ _ What _ ? What did they say? What did Regina say?”

Killian sighed. “I don't know, I barely had the time to read the titles before having to pay and go. As for Regina, nothing yet. I suppose she's getting all the information and studying the situation right now, before summoning us in her office.”

“You  _ guess _ ?! What if what she reads will make her consider me untrustworthy of spending any time at all with Henry once she finds out who he really is? What if -”

“Emma,” he interrupted her, “There's just one thing we can do, and that is tell her the truth. You told me you don't know how Henry found out your email address,” he pointed out, his tone soft. “That means there's someone out there who knows what happened all those years ago and who your son is, and who could sell that information to the best binder. Regina would want to know -  _ has to know  _ \- that, so that for Henry's sake she can get all the precautions of the case.”

Killian could see the moment in which the realisation of what he was implying dawned on her when her eyes widened a touch as he spoke. Sighing, she nodded, clearly not looking forward to that talk but understanding that that was the only way to protect Henry.

He put the arm around her and held her close. “We are telling Regina. Tomorrow.”

*       *      *

“You must come out as a couple. Post a picture, tweet something: I don’t care, just do it as soon as possible before anything else happens,” Regina said, basically as soon as they stepped foot unannounced in her office. “I know you wanted to do that on your terms, but…”

“We know,” Emma said once she trailed off, “I understand.”

“I'll make a post as soon as we get home,” Killian added, ”but first there's something else to discuss.”

He reached for Emma’s hand under the desk to give her his support as they watched a weird, confused expression appear on Regina’s face. 

She joined her hands, putting her elbows up on the table. “And what would that be?”

Emma took a shaky breath. At least she didn't have to tell the whole story of her and Neal. That would have been hell.  “Remember when I told you about the short time I spent in jail about ten years ago?” She started a bit awkwardly. Regina didn't even flinch. “I was pregnant when I got arrested. I couldn't be a mother back then, so I gave my baby up for adoption - a closed adoption. And, well, he is Henry. He is my son.”

An uncomfortable silence fell upon them. Regina just stared at her, impassible. She didn’t shout, she didn’t say a word. She just looked at her, not a single emotion passing on her face. What the actual fuck. Emma had prepared herself for every logically possible reaction, but not for this silence. It made her nervous. “He sent me an email a year ago and I didn't know what to do,” she started babbling, “He knows my name is Emma but that's it, we've always just talked always about him and -”

“I know,” Regina interrupted her

“Wait, what?”

“Come again?” Killian asked merely seconds after her.

Just as Regina opened her mouth to explain, the door burst open revealing her panicked secretary. Sidney rushed up to them, clutching an iPad firmly before stopping by the desk.

“I apologise for interrupting, but I guessed it was better for you to see this right away.”

Without further ado, he put the tablet in front of Regina, making both Killian and Emma tilt their heads on the side to take a look at the upside down screen. It looked like the cover of a magazine, one of the few that had still not written anything about her and Killian. She was almost ready to see another article founded only on speculation and rumours, when her eyes landed on a picture, right under the big yellow letters writing “GOLD” at the top of the page, of a much younger and heartbroken version of herself. The background behind her was all white if not for the black lines and numbers written on it, but the thing that captured the attention the most was the red title crossing right below her shoulders. 

_ ENCHANTED EX-CON: Emma Swan’s troubled past revealed.  _

“I think that relationship reveal should wait just a little longer, Jones.”

*       *      *

When Emma had decided to take a chance on following her dream, she knew that the price for it would have been a complete and unnerving lack of privacy. To paparazzi following her and Killian around she had (mostly) gotten used to, to gossip articles based on a few speculation fan tweets she was starting to come around, but seeing her past plastered over a magazine, that she definitely wasn’t ready for. With the fame that had come with the single, she should have known that would have happened sooner rather than later, that was true, but between Henry and everything else, she had never thought that would have happened that soon. And definitely not like it did, for sure. 

She really didn’t know how they got all that information about her. Very little people knew of the time she had spent in prison and of her early life with so much detail, and that weren’t things one could simply google. Whoever spilled the beans to GOLD Magazine though, clearly didn’t really know what they were talking about. The baby was mentioned but the writer of the article went on and on about how awful she had been to her boyfriend, not letting him even seen neither her nor their child, when he, according to them, had tried everything he could to get her out of trouble out of love of both her and the baby. It was just all wrong. 

“We’ll fix this love,” Killian had said, trying to reassure her right after reading the article. He had taken her hand and looked at Regina, his jaw still set and his gaze hard. 

He was still furious, Emma could see that as he tried to help her pass through this as unscattered as he could. As for Emma, her anger had slowly worn away until she felt nothing but numb. Numbness that soon got replaced by hurt at reading the words people after reading the article were directing at her, both on and off Twitter. 

Emma sat on the sofa, wrapped up in a blanket as she listened to Killian play the guitar upstairs while scrolling through the endless list of tweets and notifications.

**@cptkillian882:** _@emmaswanlive you should be ashamed of yourself._

**@the_pirate_fan:** _ That man deserved to see his child and get a say on their future. Were I Killian, I’d stay as far as I could from you @emmaswanlive. _

**@mrspennyjonesxoxo:** _ You don’t deserve any of the fame, I hope you know that @emmaswanlive. People like you are garbage.   _

Sighing Emma passed her thumb on the screen once more to read the nexts. They were all more or less the same, some harsher than the others. People called her many names, wished her the worst things. She didn’t even know why she was reading them, but she couldn’t stop, not even when tears clouded her eyes.

“Oh, love. You shouldn’t listen to any of that bullshit,” Killian said, making Emma drop her phone on her lap. She had been so engrossed in her thoughts that she hadn’t even heard the music stopping, never mind him getting downstairs.

Emma brushed away the tears with her old jumper’s sleeves and sniffled, as Killian took a seat beside her. “I can’t help it. I know everything they wrote on that article is crap but it still has an element of truth. And all those people are right! I don’t deserve any of this! Not you, not the success, nor everything that came with it. Were I Regina, I wouldn’t let my son near me either.”

Killian just put an arm around her and held her tight, letting her sob on his chest. He muttered words of love and reassurance as she cried, curled up as small as she could on his side, but she didn’t really hear them over the sound of her own hiccups and the low and regular beats of his heart. Eventually, she calmed down. The tears dried on her cheeks (and his shirt), her breaths evened to match his steady and comforting ones, leaving just exhaustion behind. 

“I texted your friends that you were fine and they shouldn’t worry,” he finally said, the soft and low tone of his voice resounding in her ears from his chest. “Those three were sending so many messages I feared both our phones would blow up, and I don’t think you wanted to get the combined Nolan-Lucas inquisition on you right now.” 

Emma looked up at him, stretching her muscles a little like a sleepy cat. “Thank you,” she said, getting lost in his blue eyes for a few moments before looking back down to where her cheek had been resting on his chest. “I made a mess of your shirt,” she breathed out a trembling chuckle.

Killian’s eyes followed her gaze down to his chest. “Eh, it’s quite alright. Washed out old mascara and tears have really improved the design,” he joked, making Emma laugh out loud mid eyeroll. “Anyway, what do you say we change, pack a bag and spend the night out at sea?”

Nuzzling her nose on the crook of his neck, she nodded. She had to say that that was a great idea. She could already picture it: the gentle rocking of the ship, the comforting sound of the waves rippling against the wood, the possible lack of internet connection that would keep them away from the rest of the world. “Five more minutes,” she muttered though, “You are comfy.”

“As you wish.”

After managing to get off the sofa and get ready, it didn’t take them much to arrive at the docks. Killian steered the boat offshore, as she quietly stared at the horizon when she didn’t give him a hand by doing the few things she had learned. They dropped the anchor later at night in a small clove repaired from the wind, and then retired below deck.

Emma couldn’t really sleep though, her mind exhausted, yes, from the rollercoaster of emotions that it had been on for the last few days, but still too worked up to shut down and allow her some rest. Extricating herself from Killian’s limbs, she put on his jumper and went outside. Elbows on the railing and a gentle breeze blowing the locks escaping from her messy bun away from her face, she looked at the horizon, the moon, now up and bright in the sky, reflected on the rippled surface of the water. 

She didn’t know for how long she had been there, staring at the sea, when she heard an urgent buzz come from the backpack they had forgotten by the stairs leading below deck. Curious, she walked up to it and managed to get her phone and answer the call just in time, not even checking the number.

“Hello?” Emma said, walking back to her spot.  

“Hello, Ems,” the voice on the other end replied, making the blood freeze in her veins.

“Neal,” she coldly breathed out, “What do you want? How did you even get this number?”

“A little bird told me,” he said in a sing-songy voice, making a shiver run down her spine, “And I’ve wanted to apologise.”

“Apologise?” Emma scoffed, “You lied to me. You kept me away from all the family I had left. You cheated on me. You framed me for your crimes. You abandoned us. Explain to me why you think I would ever forgive you.”

“I love you, Ems, I always did. And that’s why I did what I did. You know that I had to share my father with his _oh_ _so important_ job and my mother with the depression that being with him caused her. I wanted you all by myself. So we could be just us, together and happy.”

_ Was he fucking serious? _ , she thought.

“That’s not how you treat someone you love, Neal.”

It was like she had never spoken a word, though, as he went on with his speech. “And yes, I was stupid at running away with Tamara, but I was just scared, you know?”

“And do you think I fucking wasn’t? I was nineteen, pregnant and with very little notion of what being a mother meant!”

“But I’m ready now, to be a father,” he continued, ignoring her once more, “Just think of it: you, me and our son. We can be the family we wanted and were always supposed to be. We can finally be happy.”

Emma’s fingers clenched around the metal at his words to keep herself steady as anger flared through her. “Don’t you dare lay a finger on him,” she spat, “And as for my happiness, it has no longer been your business since the cops knocked at the door a decade ago.”

He giggled. He fucking giggled.

“You think you are so happy with Jones, don’t you? But you see, he’ll never know you as well as I do. Just like he’ll never truly love someone like you: a wannabe-singer lost girl. You were nothing back then when I met you and you always will be. This life was never made for you. But you’ll realise that soon enough, and when that happens you’ll be back in my arms.”  

His words hit her like a wall of bricks, but instead of believing him like she used to, they had the opposite effect. Her jaw set, her grip on the railing hardened, her pulse quickened as she tried to keep her voice down not to wake Killian. “Don’t bring Killian into this. He’s not like that and I’d never -”

He didn’t give her the time to finish that he spoke once again, his tone not hiding from her ears the smile that formed on his lips. “As for my son… We’ll see about that.”

Turning around quickly, Emma’s wide eyes landed on a very concerned, hair mussed with sleep, Killian. Logically, she should have asked how much he had heard but judging by the look he was giving her, there was no need to ask that. He had heard enough.

There were many things she could have told him, however the only words that she managed to breathe out were just, “He hung up.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides behind a Christmas tree* Hi! I’m so so sorry for the delay! This chapter was a bitch to write and between life and uni, I didn’t have much time to write in the past month or so. I hope you enjoy this chapter anyway! It might take me a while to update once again though because I have exams until the end of February but I swear chapter 20 will be long and angsty so I hope you won’t mind. Don’t forget to let me know what you think about this update!
> 
> Thanks to the wonderful Tessa for her mad betaing skills.

The ominous clicking of his father’s cane echoed down the halls as Neal sat on the couch next to the fire, quietly sipping a glass of wine. He knew his father knew was aware of what he had done. There was little he couldn't find out. The leverage and the ties he had made it impossible for the people he had on his watch list to keep any secrets, and that included Neal too. He was well aware of that but he didn't really care, he never did. It wasn't like he was ever going to reach for him first. All his father always cared about was getting what he wanted - a trait he had inherited, Neal had to admit - but this time, it so appeared they had a few interests in common.

“Calling her wasn't a wise move, son,” Mr Gold said entering the room, his tone flat but revealing a hint of annoyance.

Neal didn't even turn to face him. 

“For as much as we'd like to believe that, neither she nor Jones are stupid. They'd put two and two together. And if they didn’t, miss Mills would,” he continued, pondering each word as he walked around the couch so that Neal would see the strained grin on his face. “You were selfish and careless, not to mention foolishly impatient. Our plans might go downhill because of what you have just done.” 

Neal placed the glass on the small table next him. “The plans that don't seem to be having the effect they were supposed to, you mean.”

“What you were expecting? Her to leave Jones’s side after the first difficulty arose? Her to run back into your arms as soon as you stumbled back into her life with a phone call?”   


At hearing his father words, Neal shot up, hands clenched into fists. “I have done my waiting!” he shouted. “You have your personal vendetta for what happened to mother and I understand that, but once again there’s something that for you is more important than me. Emma has been the first and only person that truly cared about me. She was mine! I was stupid enough to let both her and my son go, that’s true, but that doesn’t mean I won’t stop fighting for what is mine. And as it happens, our interests are very much alike; that's why we are here, working together, no matter how much I might not like it. So yes, excuse me for being a little impatient.” 

Mr Gold bit his lower lip, his jaw set. He was trying not to yell back at him in rage and keep that coldly stern face of his, Neal could see that. He didn't care about how much he had enraged or hurt his father, though. He meant what he said, every single word of it. But honestly, it shouldn't have been news to him. Their relationship had always been somewhat dysfunctional, especially ever since his mother died.

“Son, I…” he started, not really knowing what to say. “You might be right. However, you must remember that this article's purpose was just to undermine her securities, weaken her for when we'll strike again. And you know what will happen then.” 

“Hell will break loose,” Neal whispered, the reflection of the fire in his eyes making them look even wilder than they actually were.

Robert Gold smirked, taking a step closer to his son. “Oh, that it will.”

* * *

Saying Neal’s call had shaken her was an understatement. She wouldn't talk much about it, but he could see it in her eyes. She had been dealing with the Henry situation and all the hateful messages and nasty articles that were directed at her, which both left a veil of hurt and hopelessness in her eyes. It was only after that call that the carefree and joyful part of Emma, that it took so long for him to see and help her set free, became just a fond memory. All the walls around her heart he had managed to break, she had started to build back up that night. 

It pained him to see her like that, so fragile, so vulnerable, nevermind the stoic masks she would put whenever she realised her feelings were written all over her face, but he didn’t know what to do. All he could do was hold her, show her how much he loved her, try not to let her think about anything that was weighing on her, and yet he could still see the uncertainty she tried so hard to hide. 

Those bloody tweets had gotten to her in a way he didn’t know how to make better. It wasn’t like he could publicly condemn those people without arising more questions about his and Emma’s relationship. And that was definitely not the time to come out as a couple.

It was a mess. A bloody fucking mess. And the words that fucker whispered in her ear that night on the boat sure as hell hadn’t made things any easier. 

They had informed Regina about Neal’s threats as soon as possible the following morning. At least she did look surprised this time at this new turn of events, but the small flicker of genuine shock on her face was soon replaced by a calculating look. 

“Miss Swan,” she said before him and Emma could unstick their legs away from the narrow space between the desk and the chairs’ legs and leave her office, “I've been doing some thinking since the last time we met. Sit.” 

Killian and Emma shared a confused (and from her part worried) glance as they sat back down. 

“In light of the most recent developments, I think it's time for you to properly meet my -  _ our  _ \- son. What do you say, Miss Swan?” 

From the corner of his eye, Killian noticed Emma staring agape at Regina. Conscious that no word would fall from her mouth anytime soon, judging by the deer-in-the-highlights look she had, he spoke, “Wait a second. Are you suggesting Emma to tell Henry she's his mother?”

“That's exactly what I'm saying, Jones.”

“Why?” Emma stuttered, finally able to mutter a word, “Neal is threatening to do everything he can to get to him, including destroying my reputation and  _ now _ you want him to meet me?”

“I have to admit it’s not the best of ways for him to meet his mother, but as you said, Neal won’t stop before he gets what he wants. Henry deserves to know who the man is who will make everyone constantly worried about his safety and who will try to throw shade over Killian and you.”

Emma opened her mouth to protest but then shut it without even saying a word. Killian sighed. Regina was right, he knew that. The kid couldn’t just stay in the dark, especially not with that curious nature of his. He was far too observant and clever for his own good, he would find out both about Emma and his father sooner or later. It was better for him to hear the story directly from his mother or Emma herself, as things seemed to be headed to. 

“Maybe,” he started tentatively, feeling Emma’s attention focusing on him. “Maybe you could drop him one day next week after school. He’s been wanting me to teach him to play the guitar for ages. I could teach him the basics, and then me and Emma could talk to him.”   


Killian ignored Emma’s pointed look and just looked straight ahead at Regina. 

“Yeah, that could work,” she agreed, and then smirked, “It seems like there’s a brain behind the eyeliner, after all.” 

Killian glared at her and made to talk back a witty remark when Emma’s uncharacteristically feeble voice interrupted him. “Wait.”

As two pairs of eyes landed on her, Emma cleared her voice and straightened her back. “I don’t think it’s a great idea. I mean, it is but he might get suspicious. As far as I know, he doesn’t own a guitar and unless you are hiding a past as a rock star, of which I’m very sceptical about,” she said for Killian’s amusement, gesturing at Regina, “you don’t look like you own one either. Knowing Henry, he would wonder how he could practice in between lessons.”

Regina pursed her lips in annoyance. “I’ll talk with Robin. I’m sure he’ll share one of his guitars with him, Miss Swan. Do you have anything else to say?” 

She only gave Emma the time to shake her head that she continued, “Wonderful. I’ll drop Henry at yours Friday afternoon. Try to bring him back in one piece, please.”

And that was how they found themselves Friday afternoon, sitting on the sofa, waiting for Regina to arrive with Henry. Thank goodness Friday was only a few days away from that meeting, because Killian thought Emma would combust with nervous energy, judging by how much her left leg was trembling, making him feel like he was sitting on one of those massage couches. 

“Emma…” Killian sighed, putting a hand on her knee to still her movement.

Blushing, Emma willed her leg to stop twitching. “I’m sorry,” she apologised, looking up at him, “I’m just -”

“Nervous. I know love.”

The soft, reassuring smile Killian gave her didn’t even have the time to fade away from his lips, that the intercom buzzed, making Emma jump on her seat. Trying to suppress a chuckle, he leaned in to give her a sweet, gentle peck on her lips before going outside to fetch the boy. 

By the time he made it to the swimming pool, a small figure run up to him and threw their hands around his waist.

“Killian!” Henry shouted.

“Hello to you too, lad,” Killian laughed, ruffling his hair. “Why don’t you go inside and put away that backpack of yours? I’ll be right behind you.”

Without making Killian asking him twice, Henry bolted towards the door. Killian didn’t move right away though. His eyes met Regina’s through the windows of her car, and it was only after he gave her a nod, that he turned around following Henry inside.

As soon as he got back in, he was happy to see Henry already chatting away with Emma about his latest favourite book. Hearing him walking in, she lifted her gaze up and smiled a beautiful, happy smile he just couldn’t help return. 

“- And it’s not a normal book of fairytales. They are all twisted and linked together. Like Captain Hook is actually good even though he…”

“Well, of course,” Killian agreed, interrupting the boy’s excited babbling, “I’m always a gentleman after all.”

“Not you Killian! Captain Hook!”

Killian winked at Henry’s offended exclamation, making Emma burst out laughing. “I don’t think he sees the difference,” she said in between giggles, putting a hand on Henry’s shoulder, as if she sided with the lad.  _ Rude _ . 

“Anyway, if you guys have to play the guitar, you better go upstairs and get started.”

Nodding at her suggestion, Killian climbed up the stairs, shortly followed by both Henry and Emma, on the lad’s insistence. Not hearing Henry’s steps behind him anymore after turning in the corridor towards the music room, he gave a quick look behind his back and stopped. “Where are you going, lad? The music room is this way.”

“I know,” Henry replied from the other end of the corridor, “But the bathroom is this way!”

Chuckling, Killian shook his head and took Emma’s hand leading her inside the room. 

“Everything alright, love?” He asked, leaving her hand only to put it on her hips with the other and bringing her close. “Butterflies stopped flying around your stomach?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, putting her arms around his neck, “those kind of butterflies did, as for the others…”

Giggling, he captured her lips in a short loving kiss. “Good,” he whispered against her lips, “Although, there’s no need to flirt with me, Swan. I’m already yours.”

“I know, but if I don’t who’s gonna keep your ego all happy and fed?”

“Well…” Killian started, not wanting to pass an occasion to see Emma’s unamused face. She was adorable whenever she did that. He told her many times, but somehow she had always been pretty unconvinced about it. To him she was always beautiful, that was true, but it hurt him to think that she didn’t think the same of herself. 

“Will you stay here watch us?” he asked, once she stopped side-eyeing him, uncertainty once more appearing on her face.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll stay for a bit and then I’ll go downstairs baking some cookies. I’m sure Henry would like some later, boys his age are usually hungry all the time, right?”

Killian smiled, before leaning in and leaving a kiss on top of her nose. “That’s a wonderful idea, love,” he whispered, as his lips travelled down towards hers to kiss her one more time.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but it did feel like minutes when Henry’s voice made them jump apart. “Eww, gross!” He screeched, making a disgusted face from behind the door before trotting in. 

In spite of the deep blush covering her cheeks, Emma was the one who recovered first. “So,” she started, stopping to clear her throat in embarrassment, “are you ready to start?” 

“Duh,” he said, taking a seat on the circular couch, where a guitar was waiting for him, shortly followed by Killian. 

He started showing Henry how to hold the guitar and where to put his fingers to play an easy song. Emma stayed there for a while, watching them with a smile on her lips, deep in thought. He couldn’t tell what was going through her mind, though. He could read her quite easily most of the times, but apparently it wasn’t the case that day. It was only after Henry managed to play his very first song without much hesitation, that she left, not before giving the boy a round of applause and making his cheeks go red. 

They played for a couple of hours before they considered it enough for a day. Killian was sure though, that if it wasn’t for the delicious aroma coming from downstairs, Henry would have wanted to continue until Regina would have come pick him up. However, as soon as he smelled cookies in the air, he asked if they could stop and sprinted downstairs, much to Killian’s amusement. That kid had far too much energy for his own good, maybe making him eat cookies wasn’t the smartest idea, but he was about to find out a lot about his past, he could eat all the cookies he wanted if that meant he’d be more inclined to take well what Emma was going to tell him. A little bribery never hurt anyone.

After tidying up a little, Killian followed Henry downstairs and sat on the far end of the sofa pretending to work on his phone. It was the perfect spot: there Emma could easily see him if she needed some reassuring or him to come help her out, and he could hear what they were talking about. 

“Hey! Are you hungry, kid?” Emma asked, a hint of nervousness in her voice. “Yeah? Then what are you waiting for? Take a seat.”

After a few moments, Henry exclaimed gulping down a first bite of cookie, “They’re so good! How many can I have?”

Emma chuckled at the lad's contagious enthusiasm. “Well, considering your mom is pretty scary when angry and I don't know how well you handle sugar, I'd say we can be safe with two more, kid.” 

Whooping, Henry wolfed down the rest of the cookie in his hands before taking another. “My mom calls me kid, you know?” He said, once his mouth became free to talk once again. “My biological mom, I mean. Her and I email sometimes.”

At his words, Killian put down his phone and sat up, closely watching Emma’s reaction. Her posture was stiff and she was nervously playing with her nails under the table, but aside from that, she definitely didn't look like someone whose son had just made a pretty much spot on and completely out of the blue remark.   


“Yeah, I know,” she nodded, her voice wavering a little. 

Henry frowned, the cookie up in the air and on its way to his mouth now forgotten. “How?”

“Because I'm her. I'm Emma.” 

Henry stared at her agape for a few long moments. “ _ You _ ’ _ re  _ my mom?”

“Yeah,” Emma breathed out, her voice so small Killian almost couldn't hear it. “I guess you must have many questions, don't you?” She added with a nervous chuckle. 

Seeing the way the lad had basically frozen, Killian couldn't help hold his breath in worry for his reaction, much like Emma he suspected. Slowly, Henry put the cookie down on the napkin and stood up, looking straight at Emma. In spite of the fear he was going to bolt, she held his gaze. 

It all happened in a matter of seconds then. First mother and son were staring at each other, then he threw his arms around her neck, letting Emma hold him tight after the shock wore off. 

Killian smiled at the scene, finally relaxing too. 

It was only after they broke apart, that the lad demanded answers. Answers which Emma then calmly gave. She told him about her childhood, about his father. She told him about David and Mary Margaret and the time she spent in prison. All bits and pieces, not enough to disclose all of the worst things in her past, but definitely enough for a child to understand why his mother decided to give them up. 

He listened attentively, never interrupting her, as if he understood how hard it must have been for her to talk about all of that. Sometimes Killian would find himself at loss of words for how perceptive Henry could be for such a young lad. And this was definitely the case. He truly did seem to understand both the said and unsaid. 

However, he was dying to ask something, Killian could see that in the shining of his eyes. So much like his mother.

It was only after Emma finished talking though, that he spoke, leaving a speechless Emma and Killian behind. “So, since you are my mother, would that make Killian my step-father? Because that would be so cool!” 

At that, both Emma and Killian’s eyes widened and as they could read each other’s minds they spoke as one. “What?” 

All the seriousness of the moment gone, their home was filled with the sound of Henry’s laugh.

* * *

It took a few weeks, but she finally started to be free to go out without being followed by journalists and paparazzi, all wanting to hear what she had to say on the matter sprung by that Mr Gold’s magazine. Social media, instead, was still a mined camp for her, that she now tried with all her might to avoid. 

It wasn’t easy, though. There were still times where she couldn’t not see what was being said about her, where people’s comments and assumptions drove her so mad that yes, she wanted to break her no comment policy and explain them at length exactly what were her opinions on the words that had been pointed at her. No matter how she was feeling, though, Killian was always there. He was a reassuring and calming constant in her life, the only one she could reach out to during the day, without worrying about the hour nor the moment.

As if on cue, just as things started to get better, shit began truly going down.

Another article was published: “ _ An Enchanted Farce _ ” GOLD’s cover shouted in big, bright red letters just above a blurry but not questionable picture of them kissing. Not just kissing, though. Were it so it wouldn’t have been such a big deal, but her back was up against the wall of a dimly lit corridor of the Enchanted’s studios with Killian’s body pressed against hers still wearing his characteristic “coach clothes”.

It was a scandal. 

People started shouting at favoritism, of course, and many things were said, especially on the internet. Killian took the least of the lash, his doting fans swearing he’d never do anything like that and pitying him for being played by “the Swan bitch”. She was called many names - slut definitely the most recurring one - and blamed for “using Killian just to assure herself a place in the final”. Her talent and fairly new and moderate fame, once again questioned. 

It was overwhelming, for the both of them, but to Emma, who had just managed to move on after the previous article lash out, it was the last straw. And like no time had passed at all, she found herself back curled up on the sofa, reading all the trashy magazines she could get her hands on and spending far too much time scrolling through her Twitter notifications once again. 

Consciously, she knew it wasn’t her fault at all, but she couldn’t help blaming herself for what had happened. She didn’t regret kissing Killian that night, she didn’t really regret anything regarding her relationship with Killian. Her mind was swimming in “what if’s”, and Killian was… She didn’t know how to explain it but he made her happy, in a way she had never been. But if something life had taught her was that happiness wasn’t in the cards for Emma Swan, and all this mess proved it. 

She had ruined their lives, she had ruined it all. She knew how risky it would have been to act on their feelings while the show was still on, she feared what could have happened if someone would find out. She should have known better that night. She shouldn’t have let him kiss her in that corridor, but she didn’t think that night and this was the result. Her reputation ruined, possibly forever, and his career too. He should be furious. Music was his life, the one thing that helped and accompanied him through all the things, both shitty and good, life threw at him. He had worked so hard to follow his dream and now thanks to her, it could be the end of it. Why wasn’t he furious?   


“You should stop reading that crap, Emma.”

Emma looked up at him with bloodshot eyes, Killian’s voice putting a halt to the whirlwind of thoughts in her head. “Why?” 

“Because this,” he reached forward, taking the magazine resting on her lap and flipping its pages quickly as if to prove his point. As Emma stood up to take the magazine off his fingers, he continued, “This is hurting both you and us. It’s putting thoughts in your head that aren’t even remotely true. I’m not gonna say it’s gonna be easy, I’m not gonna say it’ll go away tomorrow, but eventually this will be behind us, all buried and forgotten. That can’t happen though until you stop blaming yourself and you start truly trusting Regina to deal with this mess.”

Killian let her take the magazine from his hands and Emma dropped it unceremoniously on the couch. “And how wouldn’t it be my fault, huh?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest and looking straight in his eyes. For a moment she thought she must have looked crazy, bloodshot eyes, tear stained cheeks and all, but she didn’t care. “Enlighten me.”

“Well, for starters as far as I recall there were two of us that night at the studios. You couldn’t have known there was somebody behind the corner taking pics just as much as I couldn’t have.”

“You’re right,” she said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “But I should have thought something like that would have happened. After all, since when do good things stick to Emma Swan?”

At that Killian arched an eyebrow in confusion, his expression equal parts frustrated and dazed. “That's not…”

“You know what? You should have known it was too risky, too!”

“ _ What? _ Emma you can’t be serious,” he almost shouted, the higher tone of his voice crashing with his words that very much sounded like a plea. 

“I should have stopped you from kissing me that night because this is exactly what I was worried about back then,” she said, her voice rising little by little at every word.

Killian’s expression darkened. “Are you saying you regret that kiss? Our real first kiss? Do you also regret what you said me back then about your feelings for me? Or has it all been a lie since then?”

Emma’s eyes widened at his questions. “Yes...I mean, no!” she exclaimed before passing a hand over her face, trying with all her might not to let her voice quiver, or even worse break down in tears. “Don’t you see I ruined everything? Your career is at stake because of me. You got too close and now you are dealing with its repercussions.”

“I don’t bloody care about my career!” Killian positively growled. “If it meant being able to be with you, I’d give everything up and be a fucking music teacher, or do something else. But look at you: what would you do for me? You are throwing everything that there was between us out of the window just because that fucker of your ex and that bloody crocodile of Gold are making things less than easy. This is exactly why you’ve never been and would never be happy. You run when it gets too hard without even realizing what you already have. Now I’m going to ask you again and I want you to look at me when you answer: did you ever love me?”

He was right, she knew that, just as part of her knew she wasn’t being fair and reasonable. She was too upset though, too scared. In that moment, all she could think of was that he’d be better off without her, and it fucking hurt. She was hurting them both, she realised as tears welled up in her eyes. 

She didn’t know where she found the strength, but eventually Emma willed her eyes to meet his as she pronounced those final three little words, that seemed to weigh like a ton of bricks on her tongue. “Yes, I did.”

Her mind didn’t register the hurt in his eyes. Or she didn’t let it, she wasn’t sure. All Emma did, instead, was grabbing her purse and walk away, slamming the door behind her. 

As she drove off the walkway, she didn’t even feel the tears streaming down her face.      


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *pops up out of nowhere* Hello, there! I’m sorry it took so long for this chapter but life and exams and uni happened so I have been just a tiny bit busy ever since Christmas. However, I have some good news: the last two chapters are all written and only need some editing, so hopefully in two weeks’ time this fic will be finally complete. I hope you like this chapter, and remember that I love to read your opinions and I definitely love to be yelled at too.
> 
> Thanks to Svenja for reading it over and as always to wonderful Tessa.

She didn’t know exactly where she went, nor how much time had passed since she had slammed that door in Killian’s face, but somehow there she was: standing on the threshold in front of David and Mary Margaret, tear-stained cheeks and arms hugging herself in an attempt to stop shivering from the cold night breeze.

A look. That’s all it took for David to understand what had happened and let her in, and that’s also what it took Mary Margaret to embrace her in a tight hug.

They gave her a roof to sleep under and food without the blink of an eye. They didn’t push her, though, not for the first couple of days, anyways. They were hoping she would find the courage to explain in her own time. She knew it well that once their parent's instincts kicked in there was hardly a way to make them stop fussing around her, but for once she didn’t truly mind. Honestly, one could have come up to her with a cute puppy and she wouldn't have cared the slightest: that’s how bad it was. But Mary Margaret and David still tried. They tried to make her eat anything that wasn’t on the the “Emma’s comfort food” list; they tried to make her smile, inviting Ruby over every other night, but nothing.

It wasn’t like she didn’t appreciate what they were doing for her, no (even though David could have avoided hiding all their alcohol away, to be quite honest). She was just too miserable to care, too angry at being miserable, too ashamed for what she said that night, and feeling too guilty for her anger to be still directed at Killian.

Long story short, she was a mess.

She was a mess and conscious of it, but she wouldn’t let herself cry, not after that night. Nor really talk with anyone, for that matter.

“Come on, Emma, open up!” Ruby banged at her bedroom door a few days later. “I know you’re awake.”

Emma let the book she was reading fall on her nose with a groan, and lay still on the bed without making any attempt to move. Maybe if she pretended to truly be asleep Ruby would go away? She just really wasn’t in the mood for company.

“I heard that, you know,” Ruby’s voice came from the door. “Get a move on, girl! I’ll be downstairs getting the booze ready.”

Well, that changed things.

With Mary Margaret and David out for a date and not breathing down on her neck, she had planned to lock herself in her room and stay there till the following day. However, now that Ruby mentioned it, she really could use a drink or two. And if she had to bear the company of a friend to get her hands on the alcohol, then so be it.

Sighing, she sat up as she put her book on the nightstand before looking down at her clothes. She actually had been wearing the same pair of leggings for the last couple of days and her t-shirt could have used some ironing. Surely Ruby wasn’t going to judge her, though, so Emma headed downstairs.

“You better have brought the good stuff,” she yelled as she went down the stairs, passing a hand through her previously braided hair to make them look less of a tangled mess.

“Of course I have, who do you take me for?” Ruby resurfaced from the kitchen balancing two fat bags of take away and a couple of bottles of alcohol. “I even got Granny’s. Now what do you say we should watch?” she asked, placing everything on the ground and then sitting, using the sofa as a back rest.

Breathing out a quiet sigh, Emma followed her. “Whatever.”

“Damn girl, thanks for the input,” Ruby raised her eyebrows in disapproval and proceeded to flip through the channels as Emma eyed the tequila with longing, without daring to touch it though, in case Ruby stopped her. “Oohh! There’s a marathon of that show with the two hot renovator brothers. What do you say?”

“Fine,” Emma shrugged. “Honestly Rubes, can I just have some booze?”

“Only if you promise to eat too.”

Only slightly annoyed (because actually yeah, she was hungry), Emma rolled her eyes and extended her pinky finger at Ruby, making her laugh. “Pinky swear?”

They mostly ate and drank wine as they commented on the show - well, mostly on the hot brothers - for a while. Emma didn’t know how much time had passed but she was sure it was still early when they hit the tequila. Or better, she hit the tequila and Ruby just pretended to follow her lead, making her drink some water once in a while to make sure she stayed hydrated.  

“Did you hear that buzz too?” Ruby asked suddenly.

Emma giggled to herself. “You know from where I think that buzz is? Your head.”

“No, Emma listen,” Ruby insisted, looking around to find the source. Her eyes landed on Emma’s phone sitting on the further end of the couch. “It’s your phone, don’t you want to pick it up?”

“Nope,” Emma said popping the p, before she took another gulp of her drink.

Huffing, Ruby went for getting the phone but as soon as she touched it, it stopped ringing. Sitting back down, she took a look at all the notifications on the screen and her eyes widened. “Emma did you even read or listen to any of these messages? Killian left you dozens of them.”

“Nope.”

“Why?”

“Because I fucked up that’s why,” Emma replied tiredly.

Ruby smiled a tight, sad smile and scooted over next to her. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Maybe it was the tequila’s fault - it definitely was the tequila’s fault - but that’s when Emma spilled everything that had happened. Neal, the press’ assumptions and the way they made her feel, the argument. She didn’t even know if she was making any sense at all as she talked, but Ruby seemed to understand. Or maybe she wasn’t, she honestly was too drunk to tell.

“Oh, Emma…” That’s all Ruby said as she hugged her.

What happened after that, Emma couldn’t have said. All she knew was the killer headache she had the following morning.

After that night Emma didn’t expect anyone else to come knock up a storm at her room, but apparently she was wrong. In fact, only a day or two had passed when she was woken up at the ungodly hour of 8am by her son.

“Come on mom, wake up, we are going having breakfast!” he exclaimed as soon as Mary Margaret let him into the room.

Emma’s eyes squirmed at the light as she tried to focus on the blurry image of her son in front of her.

“Are we?” She groaned.

“Yes!”

“Woah, slow down kid,” Emma laughed at his attempt to get her off the bed by tugging at her hand and sat up. “I need a shower first. Why don’t you wait for me downstairs while I get ready? I’m sure David and Mary Margaret can find something for you to do.”

It wasn't long after that they were both sitting at Granny’s with plates full of food and two matching mugs of hot chocolate (with cinnamon, of course) in front of them. She listened to him babble at her about school and the new stories he read on his book of fairytales. She knew what he was doing. Honestly, he was such a sweet and nice kid, she couldn’t help being grateful he was back in her life.

“I heard Robin saying to my mom that Killian is a bit of a mess,” Henry announced out of the blue as he ate the last of his pancakes. That was smooth, Emma had to give him that.  “Why won’t you go back to him?”

Emma placed both fork and knife in her plate, thinking about what to say, suddenly not hungry anymore. “Because… Because I’m scared. The situation is a mess and I said something I regret. I fear I’ve ruined everything.”

“I don’t think you did, mom. He loves you just as much as you love him, even after everything you said, I'm sure of it.”

Emma stared at him at loss of words. “I -”

“Excuse me,” a tentative voice interrupted her. “Are you Emma Swan?”

“Uh, yes?” Emma said, taken aback as she looked at the blushing girl standing next to her. She was young, about Henry’s age or a little older, red hair combed in two braids and freckles covering her nose under her chocolate brown eyes.  

“Can you please sign…?” the girl asked with a wobbly voice, her eyes looking down at the sharpie and notebook she had in hand.

 _Oh_.

Emma smiled, gesturing her to come closer. “Of course I can, sweetie. What’s your name?”

“Lisa,” she said, watching Emma write a little something on a page and sign it.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you so much! You and Killian are so cute,” Lisa said, a huge smile on her lips as she took back her notebook. “I hope I’ll find someone like him too when I grow up. My sister won't believe me when I'll show her this. She's the one that made me listen to Killian’s music first and then we loved you on Enchanted.”

Her words were like a stab in the stomach to Emma, who had to fight against the tears and the knot that had formed in her throat in order to not to break down in front of both her and Henry and scare them. “Thank you. I hope you do too, kid.”

She didn’t exactly know how she got back to the loft after dropping Henry at the library (where he admitted he was supposed to be instead of meeting up with her), but somehow she made it. Climbing the stairs two steps at a time, she locked the door of what had become her room behind her and slipped down on the floor. Bringing her knees to her chest and tears starting to cloud her eyes, Emma made her voicemail recite out loud all the messages Killian had left as sobs shook her.

*      *      *

She had left. She had slammed the door and never come back.

After the door had closed behind her, he had sat on the sofa and waited. And waited. The thought of her leaving for good had never crossed his mind, and as hours ticked by, and her phone ringing yes, but going straight to voicemail. By midnight he was ready to go to the police. He had been about to get outside, car keys already in hand, when his phone buzzed with a message from David. Killian sighed in relief. At least if she wasn’t coming home, she was safe.

That night had been hell, though.

Even though he knew Emma was safe and sound with her friends, probably in a bed sleeping, every time he closed his eyes, images of her bloody, lifeless body, trapped in her Bug’s metal plates would flash in front of his eyes.

Needless to say, he spent the rest of the night looking at the bottom of a bottle.

When, come morning, the realization she wasn’t coming back truly sank in, he broke down. Still too far drunk to care, he found himself dialing her number and leaving message after message until exhaustion won over.

And so he did the next day. And then the next.

He begged her to come back, he told her how worried he had been, to please call him back. Sometimes he just whispered “I love you” before closing the call, other times he’d apologise and talk for so long he’d end up talking at the void. But no matter what he said, no matter what he wrote, she never called back. She never replied.

Tink came over, probably tipped off by Regina, worried by his radio silence and unreturned calls. Reluctantly, Killian let her in, fearing she might tear it down with all her knocking, not caring about the way he must have looked, all disheveled hair and beard that should have seen a razor several days ago.

She was kind enough not to judge him though. Instead, she patiently listened to him no matter what he wanted to say, be it a ramble about how cooking shows were all over TV these days or a babble about “fucking everything up” that he feared made little sense to her.

She must have put two plus two together and notified both Robin and Ariel though, because as he mindlessly scrolled through Twitter, he stumbled upon three similar tweets from them all. Whereas Robin and Ariel stressed how sending hate directed at anyone was an unacceptable behavior; Tink’s tweet was a little more personal, reminding people not to believe everything that they see written either online or on paper, especially not when regarding such lovely people like him and Emma.

When he read those tweets, he couldn't help a sad smile appearing on his face. It was almost funny how it always seemed to take a scandal like this to remind people that they were actual human beings, with actual feelings too.

Too bad that neither of those made any real difference.

He didn't know what to do to fix things. He'd wondered about it for hours and hours, but all he had ended up with was a killer headache and the urge to just punch something. All of Emma's stuff still laying around the house definitely didn't help ease his frustration.

He just wanted his girlfriend, his Emma, back. Hug her, kiss her, breathe her in as he woke up, watching her sleep, hold her close and never let go. It shouldn't be that much to ask, but apparently for now it was.

Regina was up to something though. He didn't know what or how she found what she found, but as long as it would make that bastard of Gold pay he didn't care. She must have had a solid lead, though, because she basically forced him into babysitting duties for the afternoon a few days later, so that made him hope for the best. Not that he minded looking after Henry, not at all. He loved that lad.

Killian wasn't exactly sure how much Henry knew about what happened, so he made an effort to make both himself and the house look somewhat presentable. He was a perceptive young man, that was true, but Killian definitely didn't expect an inquisition from him.

Oh, how wrong he was.

That kid was definitely his mothers’ son. He had deceived Killian with his innocent eyes and request to play videogames.

He had started with some small talk about school and other video games, which Killian had to admit he was grateful for. It had been nice to enter the world of a ten year old for a bit and forget about his problems.

“Have you talked to Emma?” The question came so suddenly and unexpectedly that Killian almost dropped his joystick, getting his character killed in the process.

“What? Why are you asking that?”

Henry shrugged, restarting the level as if nothing had happened. “Well you had a pretty bad row and she's still staying at David and Mary Margaret's.” He stopped the game and looked at him, totally unimpressed. “And to be honest, you don't look that good. Not to mention that as far as I’ve seen, it seems like Emma's stuff has disappeared from the house.”

Killian sighed in defeat, his jaw set. “I tried.“

“And?”

Killian kept his eyes on the game. “And I don't think she even listened - or read, for that matter - any word I said. She's keeping me at arm's length. She shut me out.”

“Then do something to make her talk to you again,” he said matter-of-factly as he defeated one of the enemies.

“I really don't know what, though. Not anymore.”

Henry stopped the game once again to properly look at him. “Remember what you told me once?”

Killian let the joystick fall on his lap and sighed. This was absurd, he was getting advice on his love life by a child. “I’ve told you many things, lad, I can’t remember them all.”

Henry continued, pretending not to have heard him, “You said: ‘a man who doesn’t fight for what he wants deserves what he gets’.”

Killian stayed quiet.

“She regrets what happened and she still loves you, Killian, so much. I know you do too. You just have to prove and remind her you still love her no matter what.”

“Sometimes I think you are too wise for your own good, Henry,” Killian said, a hint of a smile appearing on his lips as an idea started to take form in his head. “Now, what do you say? Do you want to help me finish the new album?”

*      *      *

After that day, Killian spent the first few days of December at home in his studio, working day and night. He stopped drinking; he remembered to eat only when he was too hungry to think straight; he basically slept in there too. He was just too focused on his goal to care about anything else, too busy translating all his feelings into songs.

And that was how Regina found him, in the middle of his self-imposed seclusion, singing the song he hoped would let Emma open up to him again.

“That was a beautiful song,” she said, announcing her presence as the ending notes echoed into the room. “I'm sure she'll love it.”

“Bloody hell, Regina!” Killian exclaimed, jumping in his seat. He carefully put his guitar down as he stood up. “How did you even get in?”

Regina gestured him to sit cool down as she came in. “I have your keys, remember?”

Killian watched her take a seat next to him, completely stunned. “Yeah, for emergencies only.”

Regina smiled, eyed him mysteriously. “Somehow I think you'll be thankful for my intrusion after you've heard what I have to say.”

A shiver ran down Killian’s spine. Considering he still didn't know any details about the lead she had been following the past few days, he was more than entitled to be worried. There were two options - either it was good news (and he most certainly hoped it was), or it was extremely bad news and she just wanted to break it to him gently.

Taking a deep breath, he nodded, not trusting his voice to ask what had happened.

“Robert Gold and Neal Cassidy got arrested this morning. I thought you would want to hear the whole story from a reliable source.”

Killian’s eyes widened as an incredulous grin curved his lips. “Wait, what?” he stammered. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,“ she nodded. “Cassidy, as you know, wanted to get Emma back. What you don't know is that he asked Robert Gold for help. Gold had been his godfather and tutor for the past 30 years after his parents passed away. Seeing this as a chance to ruin your career and avenge his wife in the process, and not wanting to refuse his son's request, Gold accepted.

“Emma was supposed to lose the competition since the day she signed the contract. The first attempt was with making her chase Felix Stewart. He was basically given instructions to do whatever he thought necessary with the given personal information about her to distract her enough and get her off the show. But when that proved to be useless and she brought Stewart to the police, they had to change plans, which in their heads should have worked even better: get her so discouraged after the missed chance to win and follow her dream, she would have been more inclined to accept Neal back in her life.”

“She would have never,” Killian interrupted her, jaw set, fuming in growing anger as she spoke.

Regina smiled a tight smile, placing a hand on his knee to calm him down. “I wouldn't know, Killian. I can only tell you the facts.

“Anyway, they weren't expecting you two to fall in love, nor her to get up to the final. That's when Gold made a mistake. Aside from paying Peter Green (who is currently being hunted down by the police) to report information on Emma and sneak those pictures of you two backstage to destroy your career, he made sure she wouldn't win by buying votes against her. But of course, you had to come and offer her a job.

“To exploit Emma's weaknesses, they fed her past to the world. Cassidy started becoming impatient though, and with that call he stupidly made from Gold’s house, he not only exposed himself, he also made sure he’ll spend quite a few years in jail once the court declares them guilty, and rest assured, it will.

“As for the last article, it was only meant to be for you, but since everything else they did to Emma didn't have the desired effect, they hoped this will. And I guess it did, at least to some extent.”

Silence fell over the room.

He couldn't believe what he had just heard, but it actually made sense. It was just… You would think that this kind of stuff would only happen in fiction, but it was all true.

God, he didn't even want to think about Emma's reaction when she found out. It sure as hell wouldn't make her come crying back in his arms, no, he knew her too well, but he could hope. No matter what though, he had to follow his plan.

“Do you have any questions?” Regina asked after a while, concerned by his lack of reaction.

Killian smirked. “Actually, I do…”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are guys, the last official chapter of this story. I’ll leave all the thanks for next week just to make everything even more cheesy. I mean, this chapter is pretty cheesy too (how couldn’t it be? I used Ed Sheeran’s Photograph, after all) but the epilogue will actually give you cavities from all the fluff. Anyway, if you like this chapter and want to leave a comment, don’t be shy! I always love to hear your opinions. That being said, I’ll leave you to this last chapter and I hope you’ll enjoy it!
> 
> Thanks as always to the wonderful Tessa.

A charity concert: that was his grand plan.

Regina had been a bit surprised when he told her, but she, like Henry, was more than supportive, even though that meant she had a lot of work to do to organise the event before Christmas, probably even more work than he had. 

The following two weeks seemed to go by much faster than normal. On one hand, Killian was working himself crazy in order to fish up all the songs for the new album, make the one he was actually going to sing perfect and decide the set for the concert. On the other hand, instead, Regina was doing her best to organise everything: from the venue, to publicity, to filing a list of nonprofits to whom the money of the event would be donated. Eventually, he chose one of the few that helped children in the foster system find a home. 

As he correctly foresaw, Emma didn’t make any move to contact him. He missed her terribly, but it probably was for the best because her absence allowed both him and Regina to focus and actually make the impossible.

The date was set, just a few days away from Christmas. The venue was found and made ready for the big day. The announcement and publicity was made, selling all the tickets out in a few hours. The merch had been shipped and would have been ready on time. The association had been already sending thank you cards after seeing how much money had been risen with the tickets sale.

Everything was perfect. Now all he had to do was sing.  

*      *      *

She was a coward. That was more than just a fact by then. 

She could tell herself that she was still too shocked after finding out that both Neal and Gold had been behind everything since the very beginning all she wanted, but truth be told, the anger and shock had been gone as fast as they came. She could tell herself that if Killian had truly wanted to, he could have called her now that everything was over, and she would have actually answered for once and apologized then, but the fact that he hadn't made her worries grow. Had he given up on her after just a week? Or even worse, had he forgotten about her and already moved on? Had all his words been a lie? And would it have been a good idea to call him first in case? Or was her brain just being a jerk and making up excuses to avoid heartbreak in chance he actually had? 

It was probably the latter. She was being stubborn as always, wanting to apologize but not to make the first move. But still, she had lost count of the times she wrote him a text only to delete it five minutes later or hovered her finger over his number only to never actually call him. 

Agreeing to accompany Henry to a concert had sounded like a good idea then (however she actually might just have a problem at resisting puppy eyes; but also have you met Regina? That woman was scary, it was better not to go against her). What was better than live music to forget about all her worries and maybe find the courage to talk to Killian, after all? 

Maybe more than a hundred things. But still, she was going to go for Henry. 

When Regina arrived to get her and Henry that evening, she wasn't really in the mood to go out, but Henry's excitement was contagious. It was his first concert and he babbled excitedly for the whole trip to the arena. He still wouldn't tell her of whom the concert was.

“It's a surprise, mom,” he had told her when she asked, blushing. Maybe he was just embarrassed, but she honestly wouldn’t know why. Whatever it was though, she didn't care. She lost ten years: she wasn't going to back out from spending time with her son anytime soon.

Emma smiled. His eyes shined with enthusiasm and a huge smile was plastered on his face, cheeks all pink. It was kind of cute.

Once they got there, Regina escorted them to the back door and let them in.

“So, you know how this works,” she said handing them two plain white passes that still didn't give Emma any hint about who was going to sing. “Wear these, then follow the corridor and then turn right. There you'll find someone that will get you in. I'll be waiting for you here when the show will be over.”

Emma nodded, putting the pass over her head and over her neck, letting it fall on her thin sweater.

“Yes, mom. Can we go now?” Henry basically jumped on his feet. 

Regina chuckled as she watched his son drag Emma down the corridor waving goodbye before she headed back outside. 

The man that they found at the end of the corridor was at least a feet taller than Emma, if not more and the suit he was wearing did nothing to hide his muscles. He glanced down at their passes and then left them in gesturing them where they were supposed to go. 

Front row. They got to see a concert from the front row. Henry truly was a lucky kid. 

After they settled in, Emma took a good look around her. The place was huge, definitely bigger than Enchanted studios. The stage right in front of them was circular with two wings that extended on the side and ended in two specular stairs directed downwards to the centre of the arena. Soft blue and bright white light illuminated the stage as the excited chartering of people grew louder as they got inside. 

“Will you tell me who’s playing to now?”

Henry’s eyes left the stage where the opening be had begun to settle to meet hers. “Nope. I told you, it's a surprise.”

She didn’t have the time to argue that the band started with their first song. They weren’t half bad, Emma had to give them that, especially considering how young they looked like, but she wouldn’t listen to them all day long. But with a little work and luck they could actually become great in a few years. Still, their performance seemed to last ages. She was just too curious about who would be stepping on stage next to actually relax and enjoy the music. Soon though, an applause erupted from the people around them as the band bowed on stage.

Then everything went black.

Someone in the back gave a few surprised screams which quieted down as soon as the few notes and a pretty known voice came from the speakers.

Emma froze. 

She knew that song. Far too well actually, after all she had worked for so long on it with Killian. She knew that voice far too well too. Part of her didn’t want to believe it was actually him, though, not until she saw it with her own eyes.

As if on cue, a spotlight lit the centre of the stage. 

Her heart had skipped a beat right then, she was sure of it. It was actually him. She was at Killian’s concert. Concert she never knew would exist. In the first row. With Henry.

Emma’s legs itched to run, to get as far away as she could. But she couldn’t leave Henry alone. He was just ten and Regina couldn’t come pick them up and he was so excited for this, she couldn’t ruin it all for him just because she was scared and… And it totally was a set up. Henry had been on it, she could feel him staring at her from her side; Regina had definitely been on it; hell, probably all her friends had been on it as far as she knew. Question was: was Killian aware she would have been there?

However, that was a question she couldn’t answer to, at least not yet.

Killian was still keeping his eyes closed as he sang, as if he was trying to channel all the memories, all his feeling in the lyrics. And all Emma could do was listen, transfixed. The last time she had heard him sing “Like Fire”, it was in the early stages, when they were still working about the melodies and making the lyrics perfect. After that they always sang it together. But now there he was, in a plaid shirt with sleeves rolled over and characteristic dark skinny jeans, singing it on his own, eyes closed as he cradled the mic in his hands and guitar laying on his back, strapped over his chest.   

Emma couldn’t help a small smile appear on her face. God, she had missed him so much. And all because of such a stupid reason.

Once the song came to an end, Emma looked down at Henry as the arena exploded in cheers. He must have seen the sad smile on her lips, because he smiled back and nudged closer, reaching for her hand to give it a reassuring squeeze.

“Good evening LA!” Killian screamed, rewarding himself with deafening cheers from his audience.

His eyes scanned the people in front of him for a few seconds before his eyes met hers. He grinned at her as he brought the microphone at his lips once again. “Oh, you look beautiful tonight.”

More cheers erupted from the crowd behind her, but he still was looking right at her. A blush spread on her cheeks as realisation drew upon her. 

Her. He meant she was beautiful, not the whole audience. 

Emma took it as an answer to her previous question. Yes, he had been on it too, and honestly that made the butterflies in her stomach come back to life. She felt tears pool in her eyes and she bit her lip. She wasn’t going to cry, no way. She just wanted to try have fun.

Killian started to sing again.

He sang all her favorites of his songs that night. Everyone was having so much fun that by the end of the concert they asked him in chorus to sing just one more, upset that it was already over. Everyone except Henry. 

Emma frowned, but the answers to her questions were given once Killian gave in and got ready to sing once again. 

His fingers started plucking at the cords of his guitar playing an unrecognisable tune as he said, “This song is for someone very special who came into my life and made it a thousand times better.” His eyes met hers briefly. “This song is for you, love.”

Emma’s eyes widened and the arena grew quiet as Killian started to sing. It was a new song, so different from all the others he had ever written. His eyes never left hers as he sung words of love and heartache with such simplicity and softness that a knot soon formed in Emma’s throat.

_ Loving can hurt, loving can hurt sometimes _

_ But it's the only thing that I know _

_ When it gets hard, you know it can get hard sometimes _

_ It is the only thing makes us feel alive _

Lulled by the music, her mind started to wander. Flashes of memories from the past year appeared in front of her eyes. The audition; sharing a coffee in the studios; their first date; the first time out at sea; watching movies only to fall asleep on the couch; the night in the woods he asked her to move in; their first kiss; waking up in his arms on a normal day; getting breakfast ready while dancing in the kitchen. And then all the silly arguments they had; the beginning hostility between them; the heartache that keeping themselves at distance brought; her running away, slamming the door in his face twice. 

_ We keep this love in this photograph _

_ We made these memories for ourselves _

_ Where our eyes are never closing _

_ Hearts were never broken _

_ And time's forever frozen still _

_ So you can keep me _

_ Inside the pocket of your ripped jeans _

_ Holding me closer 'til our eyes meet _

_ You won't ever be alone _

_ And if you hurt me _

_ That's okay baby, only words bleed _

_ Inside these pages you just hold me _

_ And I won’t ever let you go _

She had been so caught up in the memories that she hadn’t noticed the tears streaming down her cheeks, nor Killian putting down the guitar and walking to the stage’s right wing. As the song was quickly coming to an end, Emma watched him walk down the stairs. 

Killian walked towards her, singing the last lyrics and her heart began beating faster and faster. By the time he was singing the last line, he'd gotten right in front of her. Softly, he reached for her cheek, caressing the tears away. 

It was then, when the last few notes echoed in the arena and the audience started cheering, that their lips finally met in a kiss. 

That was the night Emma went back home.

*      *      *

If didn't take them much to get back to their normal life. She would still apologize for running away, both through words and actions, while he'd find any occasion to hold her and whisper how much he loved her, but they both knew they would be alright no matter what. 

Decorating the house for Christmas had been a nice way to get the gears of their relationship run smoothly once again. They put fairy lights by the path and over the trees by the pool, they got a fully real tree for their living room and spent enough money on decorations to make most people’s eyes widen comically. 

They took their time, but once done, the place had gotten a kinda magical homey feel. 

They decided to stay home on Christmas Eve, spending the day shamelessly snuggling up on the couch while watching movies and enjoying each other's company. It was quiet, something that definitely shouldn’t be the following day celebrating with all their friends and family.

It was a few minutes before midnight that Killian lightly nudged her as the titles of their last movie rolled over the screen. Odd. She didn’t remember how the film ended.

“You dozed off about ten minutes ago, love,” Killian informed her, seeing her brows knotting in confusion.

“Oh,” Emma said, a bit upset that she had missed the end. “Tell me how it ended?”

Killian chuckled, guiding her upstairs and into the music room. “Maybe later. First I have something for you.”

Emma sat with a sigh on the couch and watched him go get something from one of the desk’s drawers. “What are we doing here? I thought we were going to bed.”

He laughed nervously as he walked up to her keeping whatever he got in his hand from her sight before sitting next to her. Emma felt her stomach do a flip and her heart beating faster, noticing how nervous he suddenly looked.

Killian’s eyes met hers for a second, before falling on his slightly bouncing leg. “I just wanted to give you something.”

“It’s not Christmas yet,” Emma observed, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Didn’t we agree to exchange presents tomorrow with all the others?”

“Yeah but,” Killian took a deep breath before handing her a cylindrical-shaped thing, eyes meeting hers once again, “I wanted to give you this without anyone around. It’s the sheet music of the song you heard the other day. Your song.”

Trying to keep the tears at bay, Emma smiled, looking down at the present. It was just a simple couple of pages, rolled up perfectly to have the title of the song, “Photograph”, right on top and tied up with a red satin bow. That only would have been enough to make her heart burst in her chest, but then her eyes caught the small sparkling object knotted in the middle of the bow. 

A ring. A simple, beautiful white gold ring with small diamonds running on its band up to the bigger stone.

Her vision grew blurry, but her eyes couldn’t leave the ring as her mind started racing. Was that it? Was he actually going to ask her to marry him? Because she was this close to breathe out a yes over the knot that had formed in her throat before he'd even ask and she had to know if it was actually  _ it _ before making a fool of herself and hitting him for making her think so. After kissing him, of course. But seriously, if he wasn’t really proposing she was going to hit him. 

Killian cleared his throat making her look up from her lap only to find him kneeling in front of her. She hadn’t even noticed him moving and suddenly all the air was knocked out of her lungs. Suddenly, she wasn’t that sure she could manage to form any sound anymore.

“I wrote that song one night, thinking about how far we’d come. As I was lost in my memories I tried to pinpoint the exact moment I fell for you, but I couldn’t. I think a part of me fell for you as I listened you sing, but after that I feel like I loved you a little more every moment we spent together, and I still do, every day. When we met, I never thought I would love someone so deeply and completely after everything that had happened, and I definitely didn’t believe in love at first sight. But you came along and turned my world upside down. And here I am now, kneeling in front of this beautiful, fantastic woman I love and dream of spending the rest of my life with.

“So, Emma Swan, what do you say?” He asked, voice cracking. “Will you marry me?” 

Tears streaming down her cheeks, Emma smiled brightly and nodded as she leaned forward to whisper her answer on his lips before kissing him.   

*      *      *

With the new year, so finally came Mary Margaret and David's wedding. 

Minor last minute crisis aside, it had been a beautiful ceremony. Mary Margaret looked stunning in her white dress and Ruby had cried during their vows, which made Emma cry too. She was fairly certain David had teared up at some point too, but she wasn't sure. She'd have to ask Killian once he got away from the piano. 

No one, aside from Emma, had imagined they would get an impromptu mini concert by the famous Killian Jones himself. Not even the newlyweds did, who had to be forcibly shoved on the dance floor for their first dance when Killian had started singing their song. Now that the shock had worn off though, most of the guests had joined the dancing couples as the other chatted, waiting for their drinks to kick in before busting their moves. 

Emma, instead, was standing by the side, watching people twirl in front of her and listening to her fiancè sing as she absent-mindedly toyed with the ring on her finger with a smile on her lips. Her mind went back of a few weeks, on what had been the best Christmas of her life, surely the first of many incredible ones.

She and Killian had showed up at Regina’s for Christmas lunch only slightly late after spending far too long in the shower, but surprisingly no one realized. Be it Christmas or the general excitement and worry about getting everything ready and perfect, but whatever it was they were thankful for it. They had talked about it and they both agreed that they wanted to surprise everyone with the news, and not getting grilled about being late definitely allowed that. 

It was a very nice day, overall. They had lunch, chatting and laughing away about the weirdest things, before they all gathered around the tree in the living room to open the presents. During all of that, Emma definitely didn't try to hide her left hand, and yet no one seemed to notice. 

Henry, being the oldest child present, was deemed responsible for the presents distribution. It was him in the end who, when bringing Emma's present to her, noticed the ring and made his congratulations. 

After that there was an explosion of “Oh”s and kisses and hugs and wedding talk. Mary Margaret especially seemed ready to throw herself into another wedding to plan, much to everyone's surprise. 

“So…” Emma jumped at the feeling of somebody's hands on her waist, too lost in her mind to notice that Killian had finished singing, but at the sound of his voice she soon relaxed in his arms. “Pray tell me, how is it possible for such a beautiful lady not to have found a fine gentleman to dance with tonight?” 

Emma purred quietly at the feel of the way his breath tickled her ear as a playful grin appeared on her lips. “Maybe I'm not interested in just a gentleman,” she said, turning around in his arms to face him. “Maybe I was waiting for a pirate.”

Killian’s eyes darkened as his tongue poked out to wet his lips. “Well, it looks like you found one then. Shall we?” 

He guided her in the middle of the dancing crowd, joining them in a slow waltz, only after little hesitation on her part. Soon though, they gave up on following the right moves. 

It was then, swaying slowly in his arms, head resting on his chest, that the image of her in a white dress, slow dancing with her husband, didn't seem so out of reach. 


	22. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so… This is it. Over a year and a half of work, 81k words written and this story has finally come to an end. If you had asked me if I would have ever written any fic in a language that isn’t my own all that time ago, I would have most likely laughed at you. But Aimee convinced me I could do it, Tessa patiently corrected all my mistakes, the Hub ladies cheered me on once I joined the chat and so here I am, posting the very end of this story. I can’t thank you all enough for cheerleading me on and sticking up with me when updates became less frequent, but please know that this potato loves you a lot.
> 
> That being said, I hope you enjoy this final chapter! 
> 
> (Btw, I suggest you wash your teeth thoughtfully after reading it because this is going to be Fluffy).

The wedding had been something simple and small, just as they wanted. They didn't want it to be transformed into a media event, no, they just wanted to celebrate with the closest thing they had of a family: their friends. However, ever since they announced their engagement, they had found themselves in the spotlight and their wish seemed impossible to grant. Luckily, it didn't take much to convince Regina to help mislead the journalists and keeping all the information on the event a secret. 

They had been pretty busy that year. They traveled a bit around America and Europe for Killian’s tour, coming back just on time for Emma to start recording her first album signing a contract with Killian’s label and accepting Regina’s offer to be her manager too. Then award season came, and with Killian accumulating nominations and awards for both the whole new album and Photograph on its own including two Grammys, they were requested for gigs and interviews more than ever. And even more so especially after their new collaboration came out, getting even more success than their first. Between all of that, it seemed almost impossible that they managed to walk to the altar only a year after their engagement, but no one knew about Mary Margaret and Ruby's dedication in helping organize the perfect wedding. 

In the end, it all worked out and no one aside from the guests and themselves knew when and where they got married. That was until Killian posted a picture on twitter, only a few days after coming back home from their honeymoon, of him in a classic black tux holding Emma close, his hands on her waist, faces only a few inches apart, her gorgeous long white dress glowing in the sunset’s light. Probably just the picture itself would have been enough for the fans to freak out, but it was what Killian had written on top of it that actually made their heads explode.

_ This day, two years ago, a woman stole away my heart with just the sound of her voice. She is my best friend, my Swan, my wife. I love you @emmaswanlive, happy anniversary <3 _

She wouldn’t say that she teared up when she read it and all the lovely replies from fans and colleagues that night, but she totally did. Turning on her other side, she faced her husband who was joining her in bed, eyes shining with happy tears and love. 

“I love you too,” she whispered on his lips, letting him hold her tightly against his warm body, “Happy anniversary, Killian.”

*      *      *

It was her turn to surprise him a few months later.

It wasn’t something they had exactly planned, but they weren’t even trying to avoid it either. But it did, and now she had to find a way to tell him. Even though they had talked about children multiple times and she knew he’d be overjoyed to know that soon their little family would grow of a little her or a little him, deep down she was still scared. Scared of not being a good mother (after all, how could she be if she never had one until she was a teenager?); scared of not being able to protect them from the cruelty that came along with a life always on the spotlight. 

She considered telling him right away but his birthday was in only a couple of days, so she decided to wait and eventually came up with a plan. Trying to keep it secret from him had been hard, though. Her hand would creep up to absentmindedly rub her stomach multiple times during the day already. She was sure to have seen him noticing the gesture at least once, but he must have thought nothing of it as his eyes had drifted away as fast as they’d landed there. However, her husband remained still quite perceptive, and soon he was asking her if something was wrong. 

“I’m just excited for Friday,” she brushed him off, the morning after. 

“Why? It’s just my birthday, love.” He said nuzzling his nose in her ear as she made pancakes, his body flushed against hers.

“Yes, it’s your birthday and we are going on a date,” she nodded, turning off the stove. Turning around, she put her hands on his shoulders smiling with mischief, “And who knows? Maybe I have a surprise for you.” 

“Is that so?” He asked, his voice deep with desire sending a shiver down her spine.

“I don’t know. You’ll have to wait and see.” 

They went to a fancy restaurant the day of his birthday, but it wasn't a ‘I don't even know what I’m putting in my mouth’ nor a ‘Why am I paying so much to eat three ravioli’ kind of restaurant. And maybe that was for the best, considering Emma had been in an endless state of starving-but-nauseous for days. If he did notice her lack of appetite lately, or the fact that her avoiding like the plague certain foods she found out were making her most sick had resulted in an unusual choice from the menu that night, he didn’t mention it. And thank God for that, or she could have easily ruined the surprise and told him the news right away. 

“Let’s go to the beach for a walk,” she suggested as they got ready to leave. 

“We could. Or, we could head home for dessert,” he tilted his head to whisper in her ear. His nose nuzzled her loose gold locks as the soft puffs of his breath on her neck sent shivers of anticipation down her spine.

Emma took a deep breath to compose herself. “Later. I told you I have a surprise for you remember?”

They ended up going to the beach anyway, regardless of the pout that appeared on Killian’s face when she had told him he had to wait. They walked for a bit, barefoot on the cold sand, watching the stars and lulled by the sound of the waves coming ashore, very much like their first date, when suddenly she stopped, tugging him in with her. 

“Are you finally ready to tell me what that surprise of yours is, love?”

Emma hummed, pretending to think about it before replying, “Not quite yet. But if you’re still up for dessert…”

They managed to reach their bedroom still mostly decent, only their kiss-swollen lips and tousled hair hinted to the make out session they had against the front door, as soon as they put foot home. 

Hand in hand, Emma guided him on their bed, gesturing him to sit. 

“Is it finally time for my surprise?”

“Uh-uh,” she nodded, giving him another kiss before disappearing behind the bathroom door. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

When she finally resurfaced, she had to hold back a nervous giggle watching his eyes widen as he took her in. Her dress was gone, replaced by a pair of lacy black knickers barely visible under the white t-shirt she was wearing. It was identical to the ones she had made for his last tour, with ‘I heart Captain Jones’ written on it, but both the thick words that sandwiched the red heart were crossed over with a sharpie. Next to them the words ‘we’ and ‘daddy’ were written in the loopy but uncharacteristically neat handwriting of hers. 

Emma walked slowly up to him until his knees almost touched hers. Biting her lower lip, she watched a confused frown appear on his face as his eyes zeroed in on her stomach, roaming back and forth as he read those words again and again. 

“Are you… Are you pregnant?” He stuttered, looking up at her, his expression incomprehensible. 

Lowering her gaze, she smiled softly as she took his hand in hers and brought it underneath the shirt to her belly, where their baby was growing. “Yes,” she answered simply, bringing her eyes back on him, not wanting to miss the moment the information would sink in. “Surprise!” Emma nervously exclaimed with a huge grin on her face, waving her free hand in the air.

“We are having a baby,” he whispered in awe as his lips curved up in a wide smile and his eyes grew misty. “A little you.”

“Or a little you,” Emma chuckled, tears spilling from her eyes at the image of a little girl and a little boy running around the house. 

Still overwhelmed, Killian helped Emma sit next to him before brushing away the tears from her cheeks. 

“Sorry. Hormones,” she sniffled gesturing at her face, “I’ve been crying at the silliest things in the last couple of days.”

“Well, I guess it’s something we must get used to,” he said, his smile growing bigger by the minute. “When did you find out?”

“A few days ago. Keeping it from you and everyone else had been quite a challenge, but I wanted it to be a surprise,” she confessed and moved her gaze downwards, insecure of how he would feel about that and the baby in particular. He hadn’t stopped smiling since she told him, that was true, but he hadn’t said anything about how he actually felt yet. “Are you angry?” 

Caught off guard by her question, he frowned. “No, no, no, no. How could I be, love?” He reassured her, lifting her chin with a finger to make her look at him, “You made me the happiest man on Earth.”

“Really?” Emma asked with a small voice as she watched another smile reappear on his lips.

Killian tilted his head forward, only to stop at her lips where he murmured before capturing them in a kiss, “Really.”

It was a gentle kiss, but it quickly grew passionate. Soon enough, her shirt ended up somewhere on the floor, much like the rest of his clothes, as from the edge of the bad they moved up to lay down in the middle of it. Finally coming up for air, Killian brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and looked at her with so much awe and devotion that made her heart melt. 

“I love you,” he said, caressing her cheek as he gave her a small peck before moving down to her stomach and pressing a kiss next to her bellybutton, “ And I love you, little one.”

Tears threatened to fall on her cheeks once again, but she somehow managed to hold them. “We love you too,” she whispered with a smile, passing her hands through his hair lovingly. “Show me?”

“With pleasure,” Killian grinned as he went back up to capture her lips in another kiss.

*      *      *

They didn’t tell anyone at first, not wanting to jinx it. Emma also wanted to keep it for themselves for a while, but she soon found out she couldn’t hide it for long to their friends. If her not drinking any wine at dinner and avoiding coffee and other foods whose just smell made her nausea spark to life like the plague, were already kinda giving it away, the slight curve of her stomach that started to appear a few weeks later, definitely confirmed it. So apparently, everyone already suspected by the time they decided to share the news. Everyone except David, much to everyone’s amusement.

If their friends knew of Duckling Jones - as they started jokingly calling it - existence, the world still didn’t. The temptation of keeping it a secret was strong but both Emma and Killian knew it would have been a struggle. So, when they saw an opportunity to make the announcement in Robin and Regina’s 4th of July pool party, they took it.

Emma was sunbathing on a giant inflatable swan in the pool when Killian snapped her a picture. 

“Killian!” Emma whined. “Warn a girl, please. What was that for?” 

Killian put the phone away and dived in, swimming up to her. “Hello, my love.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Please, tell me you didn't post that picture anywhere already.”

“I didn't. You’ve nothing to worry about, though, you are beautiful.”

Her eyes left his and dropped on her small bump. “But -” 

“No buts,” he said, putting a hand on her stomach and making her hiss at the cold. “I know you feel like you are bigger than you used to be with Henry, but I've never seen anyone as stunning as you.”

Her lips curved in a small smile. “Okay.”

“Good,” he grinned, a hint of mischief shining in his eyes. “Now, I think it's time for my two swans to have a bath.”

Emma didn't even have the time to react, that Killian took her by the arms and dragged her into the water. 

“You are gonna pay for this,” she gasped, resurfacing from the water and giving her husband a dirty look.  

Killian grinned. “Is that a challenge?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

His words barely had the time to leave his mouth, though, that a splash of water hit him right in the face as Emma’s laughter resonated in the air. Pulling up a face, Killian splashed her back. 

The sound of giggles and splashing water caught the others’ attention. “No splashing each other, kids!” Robin yelled from the patio, making everyone laugh. 

Emma and Killian spun around, stopping with their water fight. 

“But he started!” Emma pouted. 

Robin pulled up a stern face, one they more than often saw him give Roland, successfully managing not to laugh. 

Emma was too busy looking at her friends to notice Killian creeping up from behind her and putting his arms around her hips while leaving a kiss on her collarbone. 

“I love you,” he whispered once she looked down at him. 

God, he was giving her the puppy eyes, but she wasn’t going to fall for it, not this time. “I don't,” Emma grumpily muttered. She soon changed her mind though, after he leaned in and kissed her pout away. “Okay, maybe I do.”

“Eww! Get a room you two,” Ruby shouted at them, lifting her sunglasses over her head as she stuck out her tongue, “There are children present!” 

Killian and Emma let out an embarrassed chuckle and swam up to the edge of the pool, their cheeks sporting a matching shade of red.

That night, a picture captioned with “Two Swans on a swan” appeared on thousands of people’s social media dashes, rewarding both Emma and Killian with an incredible amount of congratulations messages and new followers. 

Five months later, after a long, scary night of early December spent at the hospital, Liam Murphy Jones was born with all ten fingers and toes, a mop of light blonde hair on the top of his head and stunningly blue eyes like his father. Consciously they knew that finally holding their son would have been a life-changing moment, they read about it in books and saw that happen fairly recently to Mary Margaret and David when little Leo was born, but neither of them expected the surge of love that creeped into their heart, making it feel like it grew a couple of sizes bigger. 

Killian especially, never thought it would be possible to fall so deeply and instantly in love with someone so small, and neither that there would be any space left in his heart to love anyone else. However, he had to reconsider that thought three years later when Alice Kathryn Jones was placed in his arms for the first time.

And in that moment of blissful happiness, he swore he felt his heart sing.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! If you want you can find me on tumblr @killiancygnus.


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